


Help Wanted

by beargirl1393



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Complete, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Minor Character Death, NaNoWriMo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 14:33:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 50,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6570028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beargirl1393/pseuds/beargirl1393
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bombur is a widower who needs help with his restaurant.<br/>Bilbo is independently wealthy thanks to his inheritances, but needs to work so he doesn't have to think about his mother's passing.<br/>The two meet when Bilbo answers Bombur's ad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for Nano back in November, and never got around to posting it until now. I'll post a chapter every day, that way no one's flooded and I have a bit of time to edit the chapters and hopefully catch any typos. If there are any other pairings in this, they'll be added as they're revealed, so no one's spoiled.

Bombur Broadbeam was a simple man.

He loved his family, he loved his job, and he loved food. Being a chef and owning his own restaurant ensured that he was able to combine two of his passions, making food and seeing people’s expressions when they took the first bite, and since most of his staff was family in one way or another, he was content.

His cousin, after the accident, had taken a job as dishwasher, but once Bifur had healed more and gained more confidence in himself, he went back to being an assistant cook. Bofur manned the bar, which Bombur was confident was in good hands, and a few of his friends were waiters.

Dori had admitted to him that he really wanted to open his own tea shop, but until he was convinced Nori was on the straight and narrow for good, it was best that he was where he could keep his eyes on his brother.

Nori, for his part, showed up when he was supposed to, did his job, and seemed content to wait tables for now, chatting with the customers and charming them into leaving bigger tips. It was something new, and as he needed the job until his parole was up, he was honestly grateful to Bombur for hiring him despite what he’d likely heard.

Ori was a sweet little thing, usually seen in the company of either Fili and Kili, whose uncle owned a business not far from the restaurant, or Bifur, surprisingly. His cousin seemed taken with the lad, and as it was rare for Bifur to become attached to anyone outside of their family, Bombur didn’t say a word, especially not to Dori. Ori was young, but he was an adult and old enough to make his own decisions, and Bombur had long ago stopped trying to tell his family what they should or shouldn’t do.

All in all, Bombur was happy with his life. His cousin was happier than he’d been since the accident, Bofur had a stable job that was safer than mining, his restaurant was doing well, and his children were all happy and healthy.

He was still upset about losing his wife, of course, but time was helping him heal. When their youngest was only a few months old, she had gotten sick and hadn’t been able to shake it. They had done everything they could, but in the end she had died.

For months he had been a wreck, barely eating and only getting out of bed because he had to take care of the kids. It felt like a part of him had died when his wife had, and part of him was buried with her. It was his eldest who had snapped him out of it, sitting him down and telling him that Alice wouldn’t have wanted this for him, that she would have wanted him to live, to be happy. He knew she was right, his wife had always been inclined to look on the bright side, cheering up even the gloomiest of patrons, and she would have hated to see him stumbling around like a ghost.

So, he’d tried. It was hard, at first, but time truly did help. He learned to laugh again, to smile honestly once more. He had hired Ori first, then Nori when the lad admitted that his brother needed a job. Despite the man’s reputation, he didn’t have a single complaint. Dori followed soon after, and Bombur was honestly considering bumping Dori up to manager and hiring Fili to take his place. The boy was around Ori’s age, more sensible than his younger brother and eager for a part time job that had nothing to do with his family’s business. Kili would cause chaos, the boy was still too wild and reckless, but Fili would be a good fit.

At present, two years after his wife’s death, Bombur was sitting in his office, drinking coffee and eating a cookie while he looked at the newspaper, specifically the ad he’d asked Bofur to place. His restaurant had taken off, and he’d been nearly run off his feet, even with Bifur’s help, in the kitchen. Having someone else there, whether to cook, expedite, or take a turn as a hostess when things were slower, would be a big help for him, and so he’d had Bofur place an ad. He didn’t have anyone specific in mind, none of their family or friends seemed right for the job, so he would be hiring a stranger again. It had turned out well when he’d hired Ori, and then Nori and Dori, so he had high hopes that it would turn out well this time as well.

Still, Bombur would be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit nervous. The Brothers Ri, as he called them when they all visited together, had been with him for long enough that they felt like family now, as did their friends that had been dragged in, at one point or another, to try the food and had ended up staying in touch. Could someone else manage to fall into the easy friendship, the family camaraderie, that they all had?

* * *

 

Bilbo Baggins life had become full of routine.

Each morning, he would wake up at precisely seven o’clock and have breakfast. He would go shower and dress before wandering back out for an after breakfast snack. Then he would settle at his desk, looking over the papers for Bag End Books, the shop that his father and mother had started before he was born. He had competent people running it, his nephew Frodo and his friend Samwise were responsible lads, well equipped to handle the store. Elrond, one of his regulars and a dear friend of his mother, also kept an eye on things a few days a week.

Before Belladonna had taken sick, she and Bilbo had run the store together. When her health had started to decline, Bilbo had asked Elrond to run the store for him, hiring Frodo and Samwise soon after. They were hardworking, responsible lads and knew well enough to leave their pranks and foolishness for after they had left the store for the day or before they showed up for work. He had known that the store was in good hands, and thus had been able to turn all of his attention to caring for his mother.

After her death, Bilbo had not been able to face running the store again. Every time he stepped through the door, he expected to see his mother pop out from behind the stacks, barefoot and wearing a floral dress, her long bronze curls falling freely past her shoulders. If it hadn’t been his parents’ legacy, he honestly would have sold it before now. Instead, he left the business in the capable hands of Frodo, Samwise, and Elrond, not to mention Elrond’s daughter Arwen when she decided to assist him, and simply handled the bookkeeping.

They asked for his input, of course. He was included on all of the major decisions, and his vote counted the most, but he could only make himself set foot into the bookstore once a week, sometimes not even that if it had been a particularly bad week.

Once he had gone over the books, Bilbo would usually have an early lunch and go out to smoke in his garden, coming back in for another snack and tea. After that he would be at loose ends until dinner, sometimes reading, others tidying up his home.

He had inherited a beautiful house, built by his father Bungo as a wedding present to Belladonna. It was warm and cozy, spacious enough for a large family as his parents had hoped for many children, although a complication when Bilbo was born had meant that his parents couldn’t have more children. It had always seemed full of life, but with his mother’s passing, it seemed lonely, empty.

After dinner, Bilbo would be at loose ends once more, going over papers or reading, having another snack or another pipe before finally turning in for the night. Everything reset the next morning, one day bleeding into the next, and he was honestly surprised to realize that it had been six months since the funeral.

Sometimes it seemed as though it had only been hours since his mother’s passing, others it seemed as though she had been gone for years.

This couldn’t go on, he knew. He looked like a shade, going about the motions of his day without finding any joy in his activities. His mother wouldn’t have wanted that, she wouldn’t want him to have the same, boring life that all of his cousins, all of his family, had. She had been an adventurer, an oddity in their community, and before she died she had delighted that he had inherited her adventurous spirit.

With that in mind, he scoured the newspaper, looking for help wanted ads. He couldn’t return to Bag End, not yet, but perhaps working in a different shop would help to ease him back into society. If nothing else, it would fill the hours that normally stood empty, leaving him with somewhere to be rather than rattling around an empty house day after day. He needed to get out of this rut, he needed to try to be happy again.

Most of the ads, he was either unqualified for or uninterested in. He did manage to circle a few ads, planning to call and set up an interview, when one in particular caught is attention.

Wanted:

Jack of all trades.

Need to be able to cook and have decent people skills.

If interested, drop by Bombur’s Stewpot with your resume.

It wasn’t anything like the other help wanted ads he’d read so far, which may be why Bilbo circled it. He knew how to cook, and he flattered himself thinking that he had fairly good people skills. He wasn’t sure why a restaurant would need a jack of all trades, but he was just interested enough to do as it said and drop by to see.

Jotting down the address, Bilbo left the table to go brush up his resume.


	2. Chapter 2

When Bofur found his brother, Bombur was in the store room, inventory list in hand as he made notes of what they needed to order. From the looks of things, Bombur had started with the freezer before working his way out to the produce.

“I’m still cross with you,” Bombur said, not looking up from his list. “That ad was ridiculous, Bofur.”

“You said you wanted someone who could cook and would also take a turn as a hostess or waiter as necessary,” Bofur replied, unperturbed. It was difficult to get his brother truly angry, he had only managed it a few times that he could recall, and he knew Bombur wasn’t really angry with him right now.

“And do you think anyone will know what a jack of all trades for a restaurant is?” Bombur asked, tucking the list in his pocket for now and resting his hands on his stomach. “No one professional will answer an ad like that.”

“Just give it a shot,” Bofur said, moving to wrap an arm around his brother’s shoulders. “If no one comes in soon, I’ll have them take that ad out of the paper and pay for the new one myself. Just give this one a chance, maybe you’ll get someone good.”

Bofur was far too good at that puppy dog face, and Bombur knew he should be better at resisting. Still, it would make Bofur happy and he really didn’t have anything to lose. They could manage as they have been for a few more days, and Bofur would replace the ad himself when no one answered the one currently in the paper. “I get to write the new ad,” Bombur warned. Best to make that stipulation now, or who knew what his brother would decide on next time.

By the look on Bofur’s face, he’d been hoping that Bombur wouldn’t think of that. “Fine. But trust me, someone will look at that ad and decide to see what it’s all about. It’s different, Bom, people like change, excitement.”

“It’s an ad to be a cook and perhaps hostess or waiter at a restaurant,” Bombur said dryly, dislodging his brother and making his way back to his small office. He wasn’t fond of the paperwork side of things, he preferred to be in the kitchen creating new dishes, but it was a necessary evil. He had taken a few business classes, and Balin would look over the books when he came in for lunch to make sure everything was fine, but it didn’t mean that he enjoyed it.

“I’ll call you when your first applicant shows up,” Bofur called, adjusting his hat. The ridiculous thing had been their father’s, and Bofur never went anywhere without it.

“Call me when Dori shows up, he’ll likely be here sooner,” Bombur called back, leaving the door to his office open as he went to sit behind the desk. He really did need to talk to Dori, after all. The man would be a good manager, and if Ori and Nori needed extra help waiting tables, he could afford to hire Fili as well. It was an odd feeling, when he had first started the business, he had worried that it would fail.

Bombur and his wife had bought the restaurant six years ago, after he had gotten fired from the restaurant he worked in because it was closing. This place had been some sort of theme restaurant at one time, but it had gone out of business fairly quickly. It had been Alice’s idea to buy the restaurant, fix it up and make it their own. He had been hesitant, he’d never tried to run his own business before, but between the two of them and their friends and family, they had managed to turn it into a profitable business. People loved their food, they seemed to like the homey atmosphere, and word had spread quickly. They were even thinking about adding a delivery option, although that would mean that his eldest and second eldest would likely want to be the drivers.

Bombur was brought out of his musings by a polite knock on the doorframe, looking up to see Dori standing just outside the door. He smiled at his friend, gesturing for him to come in.

“Bofur said you wanted to see me. Nori hasn’t done anything, has he?” Dori asked, settling elegantly in the chair in front of the desk. “Of course, he has seemed to be on his best behavior, but one never can tell with Nori.”

“No, Nori is fine,” Bombur promised, and it’s true, Nori had been doing well and hadn’t caused any trouble. The customers loved him, he was charismatic when he chose to be. “No, this is about you, Dori.”

“Me?” Dori asked, clearly startled, and Bombur nodded.

“Yes. I’ve been thinking of hiring Fili as a waiter, and I really need someone to manage the front of the house. You would be perfect for that job, I think.”

Dori blinked. “You want to promote me to manager?”

“If you want the job, it’s yours,” Bombur said simply. “You’re the best person for the job, Dori, you’ve already gotten everyone else organized, and everybody knows that the only reason you took a job as a waiter is to keep an eye on your brothers.” Dori had the decency to blush at that. “So, think about it, and tell me if you’ll accept, alright?”

Dori nodded, smiling as he got up. “I will get back to you by the end of the day,” he promised, leaving Bombur to his paperwork, in a much better mood than he’d been in earlier.

* * *

 

Bilbo stood outside the restaurant, smoothing down his shirt and making sure his hair was neat. First impressions were important, after all, and if he wanted to work for these people, he would need to make a good impression.

Once he had finished fussing with his appearance and had realized that the more time he spent fussing, the more anxious he was making himself, Bilbo drew himself up to his full height. He was still fairly short, it was hereditary, but he had stopped letting that bother him years ago.

Pushing open the door, Bilbo stepped inside, looking around the restaurant. The was a grey haired man wiping down the tables, talking to two ginger haired men, one who was straightening the chairs while the other was lounging at one of the tables that had already been cleaned. It sounded like the gray haired one was scolding the lounging man, so Bilbo decided to look for someone else to help him.

There was a man with wild black hair streaked with grey sitting in front of the bar, speaking in a language he didn’t recognize, and another dark haired man with a funny hat and braids was laughing at whatever the other man had said while taking inventory of the alcohol behind the bar.

Just as Bilbo was trying to decide whose attention he should get, the trio by the tables or the duo at the bar, another man came out from the back, from what Bilbo assumed was an office or led to the kitchens. The man was taller than Bilbo himself, and seemed to enjoy a meal as much as Bilbo did. He had ginger hair that, while starting to thin on the top of his head, was still thick on his face, as he had a rather bushy beard.

“Bofur, have you got-,” the newest man started, before seeing Bilbo and smiling. “And who might you be?”

“Bilbo Baggins,” he said, giving a half—bow and looking up slightly nervously. “I’m here to inquire about the ad in the paper.”

“Ha, told you Bombur. Should have made a bet,” the man with the funny had said, grinning. The other man, Bombur apparently, rolled his eyes, while the ginger who had been lounging at the table straightened.

“I would’ve taken that bet,” he said, smirking when the man with the hat laughed.

“No you wouldn’t, you would’ve been running the pool Nori,” the man with the hat said, and the lounging ginger, Nori apparently, grinned.

“You know me so well, Bofur,” Nori replied, going back to lounging in the chair, ignoring the grey-haired man chiding him for not helping straighten up the restaurant.

“Ignore them please,” someone said near him, and Bilbo jumped as he realized that the larger man, Bombur, had approached while he was busy watching Nori and the grey-haired man, whose name was Dori if he’d heard right, argue over why they needed to tidy up now rather than closer to when they opened. “I’m Bombur Broadbeam, if you didn’t notice by now. You said you’re here about the ad?”

“Yes,” Bilbo said, turning away from the bickering men at the tables and smiling faintly at Bombur. “It said to bring my resume and stop in if I was interested, so here I am.”

Bombur chuckled softly, the sound rumbling and pleasant. “My brother’s the one who placed the ad, which should tell you why Ori handles our marketing rather than Bofur.” Bilbo heard the hatted man, Bofur apparently, protesting from over at the bar, but Bombur seemed content to ignore him. “I’ll be honest, mostly what we need is another cook, since Bifur and I are swamped most nights. But, on slow nights, you might just need to expedite or help the waiters.”

Bilbo nodded, that seemed reasonable enough. “Your business must be doing well, if you are busy enough to hire more workers.”

Bombur smiled, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. “Business has been going really well, yes.  We started six years ago, and things have been going well since. With luck, it’ll continue to do well.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it,” Bofur interjected, startling Bilbo as he popped up beside his brother, leaning against him. “Bombur here, he’s a genius in the kitchen. He could make prison food taste like manna from Heaven if he put his mind to it.”

Bilbo smiled at Bombur’s blush, it was rather endearing to see the man reduced to blushing in a matter of minutes by a compliment. “Well, if he is as good as you say he is, it would be an honor to work with him.”

Bombur smiled at him as the blush faded away, and there was a mischievous light in his eyes. “Well, you’ll get the chance sooner than you think, Mr. Baggins. A resume is all well and good, but I like to test out all potential cooks in the kitchen.”

Bilbo couldn’t help but smiling back, looking up at Bombur. “Well, I’ve only got one thing to say to that,” he said. “Lead the way, Mr. Broadbeam.”


	3. Chapter 3

Bofur leaned in the kitchen doorway, watching as Bombur put their potential new hire through his paces. It was a good idea, Bofur admitted privately, because whatever this guy’s resume showed, the best way to test if he was a good cook or not would be by putting him to work in the kitchen.

Watching both men chop up ingredients, putting things on the stove and other things in the oven, Bofur thought that they seemed fairly evenly matched. They had different styles, of course, although both of them seemed to be making comfort food, but they seemed to be evenly matched in skill, which was fairly surprising. Having eaten Bombur’s cooking for years, Bofur knew how good his brother was.

When they were younger, although their parents did their best, they often had to choose between time with their children or work. They had been poor, and both of their parents had needed to work long hours to provide for them. When they did get home, they were usually exhausted. Somewhere down the line, likely earlier than he should have, Bombur had taken over making dinner. It had only been little things at first, sandwiches or cans of soup, but as time passed he moved on to more complicated things.

For awhile, Bofur had honestly thought that would be the extent of it. Bombur cooking for their family, then needing to get a job in a mine like their parents, and grandparents before them. Then their parents had died during an accident in the mines and Bifur had taken them in. Bifur had worked in the mines too, but he had stopped once he took in Bofur and Bombur, not wanting to risk getting hurt like their parents had and leaving no one to care for them. Bifur had to work long hours as well, which left Bombur to do the cooking then too, as Bofur could burn water and Bifur was always exhausted when he got home.

Bombur had surprised them all by getting a full ride scholarship to a culinary school, graduating near the top of his class and getting hired not long after. He’d also been surprised when, a few months after graduation, Bombur married Alice, who he’d met while riding the bus to school each day. She went to a nearby business school, and she was a few years older than him, but she was as besotted with Bombur as he was with her, so Bofur had accepted it.

Their first child had been born only a few months after the wedding, the next not long after. They ended up with six kids, to Bofur’s amazement, but he couldn’t deny that Bombur was a good father. Even after Alice passed, Bombur had made sure all of the kids were happy, healthy, and well cared for. He made sure to spend time with each of them, made sure that none of them felt neglected. It was still odd seeing his little brother as a father, but Bombur loved his family.

He had wondered, after Alice’s passing, if his brother would ever smile again. He managed to fool the younger kids and their customers, but everyone else knew how badly he had been hurting. Amabel eventually sat down with Bombur and reminded him that Alice wouldn’t have wanted him to bury himself along with her. It took time even with that, but his brother was doing better. He knew part of Bombur would always miss Alice, would mourn her, but he was finally healing.

That didn’t make what was happening in front of him any clearer, however. Bofur had never seen anyone work with his brother like this. Even Bifur, who was Bombur’s assistant, in the kitchen didn’t have the same ease that Bilbo and Bombur were displaying now. It was like a dance, the two moving fluidly around the kitchen, neatly avoiding each other in the limited space, brushing past each other briefly as one headed to the stove and the other away…once he was sure they were going to collide, Bilbo with a pan of hot food and Bombur with his arms full of ingredients, and at the last moment Bilbo went to the left, Bombur to the right, without any apparent thought or effort on either of their parts.

They were aware of each other, Bofur realized. And comfortable with each other. They had only met less than an hour ago, and they were already more comfortable in the kitchen together than Bombur was with anyone Bofur had ever seen. Even when Bifur joined Bombur in the kitchen, Bombur was always ready to jump in and help Bifur, if he blanked at what he was doing or started to get one of his headaches. When Bofur joined Bombur in the kitchen, his brother was always slightly on edge, ready to run for the fire extinguisher at the first sign of something burning. Not an altogether bad reaction given how easily Bofur had incidents in the kitchen, but the point remained.

Bombur was relaxed around this man, and Bofur had no idea what to make of it.

* * *

 

“Well, Mr. Baggins, I think you have a job,” Bombur said, leaving the dishes he and Bilbo had cooked for his family and friends to snack on, as everyone had converged on the kitchen at one point or the other while he and Bilbo were cooking.

“If you don’t hire him, Bom, I’ll find some reason to,” Bofur said, grinning at his brother’s eye roll.

“Good thing we moved out of the way, it’s a feeding frenzy over there,” Bilbo replied, with a small smile. He realized that he had smiled more since answering this ad than he had since his mother’s funeral. Everyone in this restaurant was so…energetic and happy, it seemed that it was contagious. Even when Dori had been scolding Nori, there seemed to be an underlying fondness to it. Like they had already discussed their issues and the scoldings and comments were just a leftover from that, the sting long removed and repurposed as an individualized sign of affection. He didn’t know if it would work for anyone else, but it seemed to work for them, from what he had seen.

“Take it as a compliment, you should have seen the reaction when Bofur cooked last time we all got together,” Bombur said, chuckling and moving to start washing the dishes, helped by the man with wild black and white hair, who Bilbo had learned was Bombur’s cousin Bifur.

Bilbo looked over at Bofur as the hatted man huffed. “Ungrateful wretches, they all begged Bombur to save them from inevitable food poisoning.”

Bilbo laughed at that, causing Bofur to abandon his attempted pique and grin widely. “So no one ate anything that you’d made? I assume there’s a story behind that?” Perhaps Bombur and Bifur were the only two who could cook?

“No story, just fact. No one with any sense let’s Bofur handle the food,” Nori said, lounging against the counter. “Man’s a genius with booze, but his brother got all of the skill with food.” It was true, Bofur could make any type of drink and had even invented a few, but he wasn’t able to be trusted around anything more complicated than Ramen noodles or toast.

“Thanks ever so much, Nori. I’ll remember that when you want me to sweet talk Bombur into making those biscuits again,” Bofur said, smirking at the hint of worry that had appeared in Nori’s expression.

Bombur patted his back on his way to get the last of the pots off of the stove. “Ignore him, Nori. I don’t mind making biscuits for you, I know how much Dwalin likes them.”

“Who is Dwalin?” Bilbo asked, confused, although he was pleased to see that Nori had gone back to his formerly cocky persona, sticking his tongue out at Bofur as the man called Bombur a traitor for siding with Nori.

“My parole officer,” Nori said, apparently not noticing Bilbo’s staring as he and Bofur started bickering about Bombur baking for him.

“And his partner, although he would forget to mention that part,” Dori replied, with the sort of exasperated eye roll that every older sibling on the planet mastered when their siblings were young. “Dwalin is fond of Bombur’s cooking, but rarely has the time to come in to eat. Nori brings leftovers home or convinces Bombur to bake biscuits whenever he’s done something to annoy Dwalin.”

“And it works like a charm,” Nori called, apparently having settled his dispute with Bofur. “If I hadn’t met him first, I swear he would have gone for Bombur.”

“Well, he does have a preference for gingers,” Bombur said dryly, drying his hands and resting them on his stomach. “But I think he prefers his gingers bitingly sarcastic and dramatic.”

“Slandering my good name? I’m hurt, boss,” Nori said, smirking as he left the kitchen, Dori and Ori trailing after him to finish setting up for when they opened.

Bombur shook his head, but smiled, turning to Bilbo once they were alone in the kitchen once more. “Well, you can cook well and you haven’t run screaming after being tossed to the wolves, so you’re hired, Mr. Baggins. Can you start tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is perfect,” Bilbo agreed, putting his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels. “And they really aren’t as bad as you seem to think.”

“Oh, wait until they know you better, then they’ll be all over you. Company manners last only so long, after all,” Bombur teased. And it was true, when the whole group was together, it could be a bit overwhelming to anyone who wasn’t used to it.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Bilbo replied, thinking back to some of his own family gatherings. He doubted that there was anything these people could throw at him that could top some of the things his cousins, aunts, or uncles had done at one point or another.

“Alright, well, come in tomorrow about the time you did today. We’ll work out your schedule, give you a tour of the restaurant, go over your wage and hours and such,” Bombur said. “I’d do it now, but cooking took longer than I’d expected and we have to get ready for opening.”

“I understand,” Bilbo reassured him. “I have a few things that I have to do today as well, so I will leave you to it, Mr. Broadbeam.”

“Call me Bombur. I’ll see you tomorrow then, Mr. Baggins.”

“It’s Bilbo, Bombur,” Bilbo tossed over his shoulder as he headed out of the kitchen, the man’s rich chuckles following him out of the door.


	4. Chapter 4

Hours had passed since Bilbo had left, and they were getting ready to close the restaurant for the night. Bombur had needed to leave early that night, a few of his children had open house at their school and he‘d promised to go. Bifur had been able to handle the kitchen with some help from Nori, who apparently knew a few things about cooking and could follow directions in the kitchen fairly well, so they had shooed Bombur off and told him to enjoy himself. He always seemed to enjoy all of the parent activities at the kids’ school, volunteering whenever he could and going to all of the events.

Now, they were wiping down the tables, doing the dishes, and counting their tips before they closed the restaurant for the night. Nori was sitting at one of the tables, leaning back in the chair until the front legs were off of the floor and he was balancing precariously on the rear legs, ignoring Dori’s huff of exasperation and eye roll with the ease of long practice. “So, is anyone up for a wager?” he asked, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“What sort of wager?” Bofur asked, pausing in wiping down the bar and looking over at Nori. The former thief and con man usually proposed a bet about something or the other every day or so, with longer pools going on before popular sporting events, so he was just curious about what it would be this time.

“The new guy your brother hired. Baggins?” Nori said, settling the chair on all four legs once more and looking over at Bofur. “How long do you think it will be before he goes running for the hills? Seems like he’s an awfully proper sort, who knows how long he’ll last here.”

“He seemed at ease in the kitchen,” Bofur pointed out, leaning against the bar. He liked Bilbo, the man was a good cook and seemed to work well with Bombur. He seemed a little skittish, admittedly, but he thought that, once the man found his niche, they wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore. Still, if he could make a little extra money on one of Nori’s wagers…

“Well, he won’t only be in the kitchen, would he?” Nori said, smirking. “He could also be leading people to their tables, or just waiting tables. How long do you think he would last if Thorin was in his section? He’d rip him apart.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Bofur admitted. They knew Thorin through the Ri brothers, since Dwalin had been Thorin’s best friend since the two were children and Thorin’s nephews hung around Ori frequently. The man had come in once with Balin, Dwalin’s brother, deciding that they would try the new restaurant and see why Dwalin spoke so favorably about it. They kept coming back after, and they were now two of Bombur’s regulars and pretty much part of the adopted family that his brother seemed to keep adding more people to.

They liked Thorin, he was a good man, but no one could deny that he could be a bit abrasive at the first meeting if he didn’t think you were worth much. Bofur and Bifur had needed to be restrained the first time they met Thorin, as Bombur had gone out to see how they liked their food and he had made a comment about Bombur’s weight. Everything had been smoothed over by now, of course, but that didn’t mean that Bofur had forgotten about how abrasive Thorin could be until his approval was won. It was hard for him to trust anyone outside of his family after the life he’d led, not that Bofur could blame him. But, how would their new hire handle that?

“So, what’s the wager?” Bofur asked, deciding to get something less vague than ‘when Bilbo runs away’ out of Nori.

“I think the new hire will leave as soon as he has to deal with Thorin,” Nori said, shrugging. “What do you think?”

“I think he’ll stick around, even after Thorin and being invited to one of our family gatherings,” Bofur replied. They were usually loud, and fairly messy, everyone crammed in to one of their homes, laughing and talking, eating and drinking. He loved it, the easy camaraderie they all had and how much fun everyone, including Bombur and Bifur, had on those nights, but it was probably going to be a shock to the new guy when he was eventually invited.

Bofur and Nori got down to business, discussing the odds and putting their money in the pot. Ori joined in, siding with Nori since, although he liked Bilbo, he thought Nori was right about what would happen when he met Thorin. It had scared him the first time, after all, so he thought Bilbo would be frightened as well. Bifur joined in as well, although he sided with Bofur. He had seen how at ease Bilbo was in the kitchen, how much fun he’d seemed to have and how startled the man had looked when he laughed. Bifur didn’t know what had happened to the new man, but he doubted that Thorin would be able to change the smaller man’s mind once it was set.

Dori called them all immature, betting on the new hire, but Bofur heard him betting on Bilbo staying as he and his brothers left the restaurant.

* * *

 

Bilbo wiped his hands as he watched Bifur clean the edges of the plate he’d just made, adding a few finishing touches before sending it out with Ori. He had found his rhythm in the kitchen by now, and as it was near closing, he finally had a moment to catch his breath.

He had gone home the night before, chosen an outfit, and had hung it up for the next day before he could fuss over whether it was right or he should wear something else and wind up with everything from his closet on the floor of his bedroom. He had gone to the cemetery, ensuring that the flowers he’d planted were doing well, and speaking about his new job. He didn’t stay long, he never could, but he thought his mother would be pleased with his new job, and the fact that he was no longer hiding from the world.

Today he had shown up bright and early, Dori giving him a tour of the restaurant and answering any of his questions. Bombur found him once they were done, and they discussed more fully what his job would entail. On the busiest nights, like tonight, Bilbo would work in the kitchen with Bombur and Bifur. When things were slower, he could assist Nori and Ori waiting tables, or Bofur at the bar. Basically, he would be going wherever he was needed most. It sounded like a good idea, if a bit unorthodox, so he agreed. At least he was guaranteed to be busy, he wouldn’t have time to rattle around his house like a ghost.

He was being paid a fair wage, considering that he didn’t have any prior restaurant experience or professional culinary training, although he didn’t really need the money. He had inherited a fortune from his parents, and the store was very profitable and more than provided for his needs. He didn’t take the job because of the money, he took it because he needed to stop thinking. No, not thinking, dwelling. He needed to stop dwelling on what had happened and learn to live again.

The restaurant had been busy, and both he and Bombur were filling orders as fast as they could, and it felt like new people were arriving to be seated the second a table was freed. One couple was given their checks and vacated a table, another group took their place. It was surprising, of course, but he was actually enjoying it. They had to move quickly and work together, there wasn’t time for dwelling on what happened or even brooding. There was no time to think about anything that wasn’t the orders that needed to be filled, and he reveled in it.

Once the last dish was sent out, Bilbo stretched, lacing his fingers together and stretching them over his head. Bombur chuckled, somehow still cooking even though all of their orders had been filled. “Did I miss something? I didn’t think anything more was coming in…”

“No, you didn’t miss anything,” Bombur reassured. “I promised Nori biscuits, and I made the dough earlier, I just need to bake it.” It would mean a bit more work before they could start washing dishes and generally cleaning up before they closed, but he didn’t mind. Nori was a good friend, and it was nice being needed by someone other than his kids sometimes.

“Oh,” Bilbo said, nodding. He remembered hearing teasing about Bofur not convincing Bombur to make biscuits for Nori anymore and Bombur promising that he would still make them for Nori regardless of what his brother said. “So Nori asks you to bake biscuits?”

Bombur chuckled, putting the tray in the oven. “Nori’s partner, Dwalin, is fond of my biscuits. Sweets in general seem to be a hit with him, if I’m honest, but he loves the biscuits. So, one time when Nori and Dwalin had a fight, Nori had lied about something or the other, I didn’t ask, Nori asked me to make a batch of biscuits for Dwalin as an apology. He’s also asked once or twice for special occasions, to go with whatever he planned for Dwalin’s birthday or their anniversary, but mostly he asks me to make them for him as an apology.”

“And it always works,” said a voice behind Bilbo, causing him to jump and whirl around to see Nori lounging in the doorway. “Bombur’s biscuits usually soften him up enough so that I can skip a few days of stony silence and get right to make up sex.” Bilbo blushed at that, and he noticed that Bombur did as well.

“They’ll be done soon, Nori, go help Ori and Dori straighten up once the last customers are gone,” Bombur said, Nori nodding and leaving as soundlessly as he’d arrived. “I’m sorry about that, Nori sometimes forgets that not everyone is as frank about those things as he is.”

“It’s fine,” Bilbo said, shaking his head and starting to tidy the kitchen. And really, it was. A small amount of embarrassment was a more than equal tradeoff for the day he’d had. For the first time in a long time, Bilbo was looking forward to tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We see a little more of Frodo and Fili in this chapter.

Frodo knocked on the door to his uncle’s house, waiting patiently for the man to answer. He and Sam rented the room above the bookshop, far enough from their families to let them have their independence but close enough that their parents, or in Frodo’s case, Bilbo, could look in on them and make sure they were doing well, not surviving solely on junk food and had clean socks or whatever it was that most parents fussed about. Bell Gamgee seemed to care only about if they were eating proper meals, while Bilbo only cared about whether they were happy, healthy, and financially stable.

It was because of Bilbo that this was possible, Frodo acknowledged. He and Sam wouldn’t have been able to afford a place of their own if it wasn’t for Bilbo counting part of their salary as their rent. Frodo knew that the flat had been where Bungo and Belladonna had lived until Bungo was finished building their house, which they had moved into when Bilbo was only a few months old. The place had stood empty aside from boxes of books that hadn’t fit in the storage area of the shop until Bilbo had offered it to Frodo and Sam. Both had accepted, of course, grateful for the opportunity, and they had tried to protest that they should pay rent, but when Bilbo had set his mind to something, it was impossible to sway him.

Bilbo opened the door, dragging Frodo’s thoughts back to the present, and he smiled at his favorite uncle. Bilbo looked better today than he had in months. He still looked vaguely sad, the shadows present in his eyes and visible in the creases around his mouth, but it seemed less severe, less oppressive, than it had in the past few months. Bilbo looked _happy_. Cautiously, as if he couldn’t believe it himself, but happier than he had looked since the funeral.

“Hello, Uncle,” Frodo said, stepping inside when Bilbo beckoned him in.

“Frodo, my boy, I was just going to call you. Rather fortunate timing you have,” Bilbo said, smiling. Frodo was pleased, and slightly startled, to see the edge of sorrow missing from his smile. He could tell that Bilbo was still grieving, of course, but it seemed like whatever had happened, whatever Bilbo had been doing, he was starting to heal.

“Oh?” Frodo asked, trailing after Bilbo to the kitchen. Unsurprisingly, the table was set, since most of their family tended to eat more than the standard three meals a day, and they were no exception. “Did something happen? You seem…more at ease, than you’ve been.” It was nice, Frodo didn’t say. It was nice to see Bilbo getting back to the man Frodo remembered, the uncle Frodo had known and loved for his entire life.

It looked like Bilbo had understood what Frodo didn’t say, but he seemed content to ignore that for the moment. “I accepted a job as an assistant chef in a restaurant nearby. I will still be managing the books at Bag End, of course, but I wanted to ask if you would mind continuing to work in the shop? I will ask Samwise and Elrond as well, of course, but I know that with the three of you running it, Bag End is in good hands.” He had never doubted that, not from the first moment he had hired Frodo and young Samwise. Back then they had only been assisting him in the shop, but then, as time went on and his mother had gotten sick, he had trusted them fully with the shop and had never had cause to regret it.

“Of course I will, Uncle Bilbo,” Frodo said, shocked. His uncle had become a shut in since the funeral, and to hear that he had gone out and gotten a job at a restaurant…it was good, Bilbo needed to get out more, but it was still shocking. “And I am sure Sam will agree, but I can ask him when I get home. Where are you going to be working?” What had this place done that was enough to succeed where everyone else had failed, getting his uncle to rejoin the land of the living?

“Bombur’s Stewpot,” Bilbo replied, smiling faintly. “My coworkers are fairly friendly, and the owner is a wonderful cook. Perhaps we can go some day, when we both have the time. You would enjoy the food, and it would be interesting to be a patron rather than a cook.” Plus, he wanted to be able to introduce Frodo to the others at the restaurant, and he knew that both Nori and Bofur would get a kick out of him being a customer.

Frodo settled at the table across from Bilbo, the two of them settling in to eat and coming to the unspoken agreement that they were not going to talk about this anymore at present. So, they talked of lighter things, Frodo’s classes and what new books they had both read. They had a nice snack, simply enjoying spending time together once more.

Frodo couldn’t deny, however, that he left his uncle’s house more happily than he usually did, and without the lingering worry for his uncle that had been present since the funeral.

* * *

 

Fili knocked on the door to Bombur’s small office, checking his watch. Punctual, as he usually was if he was alone. Kili, for whatever reason, usually was at least five minutes late everywhere, and consequently made whoever was with him late as well. But, for the moment, Kili was visiting a friend, making the most of his weekend, and Fili was responding to the message Ori had passed along the previous night, that Bombur wanted to see him.

“Come in,” Bombur called, as Fili knew he would. He doubted that Bombur had ever stood on ceremony and he certainly wouldn’t have started now. He enjoyed coming here, whether it was to talk to Ori or to come with his family for something to eat, and part of it was because Bombur had treated him like family from the first.

“Ori said you wanted to see me?” Fili said, smiling as he walked in and sat in the chair across from Bombur’s desk. “Of course, if you are terribly busy, I would hate to drag you away from the joy of paperwork.”

“I’ll tell Kili that you want a lecture on why archery is the greatest sport on the planet,” Bombur threatened, but he couldn’t hide the mirth in his expression, eyes crinkling up at the corners as he finally gave in and grinned. “Regardless, I called you here to offer you a job. Dori’s been promoted to manager, we’ve got a new man in the kitchen so we’re set there, but I think Nori and Ori could use the help waiting tables.”

Fili blinked, startled. It wasn’t really a secret that he wanted to have a part-time job but had refused the one Thorin offered him. He loved his uncle, and he knew how much the business meant to his family, but he wasn’t sure that it was what he wanted to do with his life. He wanted time to try new things, to follow up his other interests. Granted, he knew that he wouldn’t want to be a waiter for life, but that wasn’t what Bombur was offering. He was offering the chance to try something new, to not need to be stuck in the family business without ever having time to ask himself ‘is this really what I want to do with my life?’.

He recalled that Bombur’s family were miners, for generations, and it ended when Bombur’s parents had died. He wondered if anyone had expected Bombur and Bofur to follow in their parents’ footsteps. Had Bombur and Bofur thought about it? He didn’t know, and this likely wasn’t the time to ask. He knew that Bifur was the one who had helped Bombur fill out scholarships, which was what led to Bombur sitting across from him now, owner of a successful restaurant. Maybe Bombur always knew that he wanted to be a cook, or maybe it was because someone had offered him something different once and he’d enjoyed it enough to make a career out of it. He didn’t know, and he realized that it was a lot of introspection just because someone had offered him a job.

“Thank you,” he managed, looking over and hoping that Bombur understood what he wasn’t saying. From the way the man’s face had sobered slightly, Fili thought he did.

“I’ve already talked it over with your uncle,” Bombur said, and Fili was grateful that he hadn’t pressed. “Thorin agreed that a part-time job here would be better than one in his company, you’d just be bored to tears making coffee and fetching papers.”

“So you’ll have me fetching coffee and taking orders instead,” Fili teased, smiling and shaking off his lingering introspection. Later tonight, when he went to bed, he could think it over. For now, he would just be happy that he had a part time job, which meant he wasn’t dependent upon allowance any longer. It always felt weird taking money from his family, even though he had always done chores. Making his own money would be better, plus, he would be able to save up for his own car.

“Just so,” Bombur replied, folding his hands over his stomach as he laughed. Fili joined in after a few moments and the tension he’d been feeling evaporated. Regardless of the circumstances, he had a job, one where he would be able to see his friends while he was working. He wouldn’t slack off, of course, but it would be nice to be able to see Ori more.

And, if that meant that he was around his friend enough to try to get the name of his new partner out of him? Well, that was just a perk. Ori had been suspiciously quiet, even with them, about who this person was, had vehemently denied that he was seeing anyone, but Fili knew his friend too well to believe that. Ori was seeing someone, likely someone Dori didn’t approve of, and Fili was curious about who it was.

Yes, there were a lot of reasons to like his new job.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the employees at the Stewpot want to know if Bombur and Bilbo like each other, so this chapter is less Bilbo and Bombur and more Nori, Dwalin, Bifur, and Bofur.

Nori got home before Dwalin did, not that he was surprised. His partner tended to work late when he had a case on, not that Nori blamed him. He was equally capable of getting lost in his work, when he was doing something he cared about anyway. Waiting tables didn’t really fulfill that, but he was grateful to Bombur for giving him the opportunity. Most people would’ve taken one look at the mess he’d been back then and turned him away without even getting to the interview. Bombur had accepted everything, even his brothers wanting to keep an eye on him to make sure he didn’t stray. He’d hired them all, even made Dori into the manager now, and hadn’t asked for anything in return.

That didn’t mean that they didn’t do things for him, however. Dori and Ori had made blankets for Bombur’s kids, as well as mittens and sweaters at various times. His brothers had always had a fondness for knitting, after all. Nori himself had taken up sewing once he’d gone straight, and he’d made a few things for them as well, including a little stuffed bird that Bombur’s youngest refused to sleep without.

They had stood by him when he mourned Alice, helping him to cope with all of his responsibilities while still grieving for his wife. And it was good, it was more like family than he would admit to anyone, and that was probably why he was sitting in the kitchen, staring at the bag of leftovers from the restaurant and the biscuits Bombur had made for him, when Dwalin got home.

“I think Bombur likes the new hire,” he said, not looking up from his contemplation of the smiley face on the side of the bag, tracing the ‘Have a good day’ printed above it.

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Dwalin replied, clearly confused. He took the leftovers out of the bag, transferring them from their containers onto two plates and sticking one in the microwave. “If he didn’t like the man, it would make it hard for them to work together.”

“Not like that,” Nori replied, shaking his head and moving to sit on the counter near where Dwalin was leaning. “I think he _likes_ him, I think that Bombur may have feelings for him, or is beginning to have feelings for him.” He didn’t know for certain, so far they only had one day of observation to base it off of, but it seemed obvious in the way they moved around each other in the kitchen, easily synchronized without much apparent effort on either of their parts. It was how they talked to each other, acted around each other, and even talked about each other. He wouldn’t say it was love, that was preposterous, but it was still worrying.

“And you think the new guy will break Bombur’s heart?” Dwalin asked, swapping out the plates so he could heat up the second one. “Does he seem like the type?” He hadn’t been able to make it to the restaurant yesterday, after all, and from what he’d heard the new guy wasn’t working today, since it was their slow day, so he hadn’t had time to meet this Bilbo yet. All he knew about the man came from Nori, who had admitted that he didn’t know much. That seemed to be what was troubling him now.

“I don’t know what he would do,” Nori admitted. “I know next to nothing about the man, he’s skittish. Stayed in the kitchen with Bombur for the most part, kept to himself beyond that. Seemed to take a liking to Bofur and Bombur, but was a bit wary around the rest of us.”

“Even Ori?” That would have been surprising, as Ori was the least threatening person Dwalin had ever met, unless you were trying to hurt his brothers or his books.

Nori chuckled. “No, I think Baggins will get along with Ori fairly well. Ori was out yesterday, Dori made him stay home because he was sick and didn’t want to risk him passing something on to the customers.” Ori only had a cold, nothing that cough syrup and fluids hadn’t helped, but it was best to keep him home just in case. “Still, I don’t know if this guy will even stick around the restaurant, let alone be interested in Bombur. As soon as he has Thorin in his section on a bad day, he’ll be turning in his apron and heading back to his bookshop.”

“Bookshop?” Dwalin asked, carrying their plates to the table while Nori got drinks and silverware. Nori hadn’t mentioned anything about a bookshop when they had talked about the man before. Mostly it was just comments about his skittishness, how easy it was to fluster him, and that he had already set up a betting pool with Bofur and a few others about when the man would leave.

“Apparently, he owns Bag End,” Nori said, shrugging. “I checked up on him, wanted to make sure that he wasn’t going to be taking advantage of Bombur. Apparently he owns a bookshop but has taken personal time. A relative of his runs it for him, he handles the paperwork side of it.”

Dwalin nodded, unsurprised that Nori had been able to find all of that out so quickly. His partner had always been good at finding out information that no one else could get, he didn’t doubt that Nori would have Bilbo Baggins’ life story soon enough, especially as he was worried that the man was interested in Bombur. “I think you should take it one step at a time. Bombur’s not going to jump into something like this, he’s smarter than that. And if this Baggins turns out to be bad for Bombur, I’ll help you get rid of him.”

Nori chuckled, settling in and starting to eat now that his worries had been mostly allayed. Dwalin was right, it wasn’t like Bombur would jump into anything, they had time to see if Bilbo was any good for him. And, if he wasn’t, Nori was sure that they would be able to handle it.

* * *

 

“What do you think of the new guy?” Bofur asked, turning over the block of wood he’d been absentmindedly whittling. This one was going to be a horse, he thought. Amabel’s birthday was coming up soon, and she’d always liked horses. “Bilbo seems nice enough, though he’s a bit jumpy.”

Bifur arched an eyebrow, looking over at him. His older cousin had always been fairly good at getting his point across without speaking, and it seemed like he’d only gotten better after his accident.

Bofur sighed, taking his hat off to ruffle his hair before putting it back on. “I think Bombur likes him,” he admitted. Which, was fairly surprising even though he thought it shouldn’t be. Bombur had never seemed to care whether his partner was male, female, or somewhere else on the spectrum, and he’d had a few partners before Alice. So, really, Bofur shouldn’t be this shocked that Bombur seemed interested in another man. Still, his brother hadn’t looked at anyone since Alice had died, and he hadn’t expected that it would be Bilbo of all people who turned his brother’s head.

Not that the new man was unattractive or anything like that, and he could see what they had in common since they both seemed to like cooking and baking. He wasn’t sure if they had any other common interests, the man had only worked for them for a day so far, but if they did, it would show up in time. Still, he didn’t know if Bilbo was interested in men at all, or Bombur in general. His little brother had taken care of him more than Bifur, but he’d always tried to look after Bombur when it came to relationships.

Bofur groaned, discarding the half-carved block of wood and the knife before burying his face in his hands. His brother had already been through so much…it was like the world had turned upside down and it was only just beginning to right itself. Now this Bilbo Baggins may be turning everything upside down again, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

But, did he want to stop it? Should he? If Bombur was happy, that was all that mattered. Whether they were friends or more, it wasn’t Bofur’s job to meddle, unless it came to giving the shovel talk to Bilbo if he and Bombur _did_ start dating. He was worrying about something that might never happen, but in this case he couldn’t help it. Bombur had been a wreck after Alice died, and it had taken a long time for him to get better. If he did go out with Bilbo, it would be his first relationship since Alice’s death. He didn’t know what would happen if they didn’t work out, or if Bilbo broke Bombur’s heart.

 _Nori would likely kill him if that happened,_ Bofur thought wryly. All three of the brothers Ri were good friends with his brother, but Nori was the closest to Bombur. It was an unlikely friendship, he could freely admit that, but it was a good one. For some reason, Bombur and Nori clicked, and he had never questioned it. Bombur was old enough to choose his own friends…

And old enough to choose his own partners. Bofur sighed softly, straightening up. Worrying about his brother was going to be a hard habit to break after the past few years, but he was going to have to try. Bombur wouldn’t appreciate him meddling in his love life, especially not if it cost them their newest employee.

A hand pressed to his should briefly, Bifur speaking only one sentence before he headed to go get a bath.

_Relax and trust him._

It was easier said than done, and he knew that Bifur knew that, but he could try. Just because Bombur had seemed more relaxed with Bilbo than he had been with anyone outside of their family since Alice’s passing, it didn’t mean anything yet. He would just need to keep an eye on both of them and see what happened.

Nodding to himself, Bofur picked up the carving again. Finishing Amabel’s horse would be a better use of his time than trying to decide whether or not to matchmake.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll be back to the main characters soon, but for now, enjoy some Dori/Balin and Frodo and Sam.

Dori sat at his table, savoring a cup of chamomile tea and relaxing. It was nice to have the house to himself, even though he didn’t mind having Ori stay with him while going to school. He was the one who had suggested it, actually. Nori had already moved in with Dwalin and he wasn’t fond of losing both of his brothers at once. It had only made practical sense, really, since Ori’s campus was close enough to their home to make the commute easy and it was also close to Bombur’s restaurant. It had worked out best for both of them, despite Nori’s comments.

When he heard a knock at the door, Dori smiled and headed to answer it. Ori was in class, Nori was with Dwalin, and neither of them were coming to the house until it was time for their shift at Bombur’s. That only left one possibility as to who was on the other side of the door, and he was far from disappointed.

Balin smiled at Dori when the door was opened, stepping inside when he was invited and taking off his coat. “Am I too late to share your morning cup of chamomile?” he asked, smiling.

Balin and Dori had known each other for years, ever since Balin had decided to take Dwalin’s advice and try out Bombur’s Stewpot one afternoon for lunch with Thorin. Dori had been their server that day, and the two had started teasingly flirting somewhere in the middle of that. Tease flirting turned into actual flirting, although they had managed to conceal that fact from their siblings remarkably well. There was no real reason to keep it a secret, of course, and Bombur had realized long ago that they were together, but neither Balin nor Dori saw the need to make a big announcement.

Although both realized that, once Dwalin, Nori, and Ori found out, there would likely be questions about why they weren’t told, but their expressions would likely be amusing.

“Bombur hired a new cook,” Dori said, pouring Balin a cup of tea and handing it to him before retaking his seat, Balin sitting across from him. “He decided that it was time to add another person to the kitchen, since things have been fairly mad recently.”

“I’ve seen the rush a fair few times when I stopped by for lunch,” Balin replied, nodding. It was good for Bombur’s business, and he was happy to help the man with the books. He knew that Bombur could do it, of course, but he never minded looking over the figures to ensure that everything was as it should be. And if he sometimes found an extra slice of pie in his to-go bag on the times he couldn’t stop to eat? Well, his brother wasn’t the only one who could be bought with Bombur’s baked goods, and he enjoyed helping his friend. “How are they? Do you think that they will be a good fit?”

Dori sipped his tea, debating how much to say. “Bombur is clearly happy with him, which matters the most. He is a decent cook, considering that he had no formal training, and he seems to be well-mannered and polite.” Things that would normally receive a glowing recommendation from Dori, but Balin arched an eyebrow at the other’s tone.

“What do you dislike about him?” he asked, because there had to be something. Dori could be fussy at times, but Balin had learned to trust his judgment when it came to people. He barely batted an eye at most of Nori’s friends, for example, but the one he had turned away had turned out to be very bad news.

“When Bombur cooked with him, to test how well they could work together as well as measure our newest hire’s skill…they acted like they had been cooking together for years,” Dori admitted, sighing softly. “They were completely at ease with each other, and I caught Bombur blushing a few times when the new guy would brush past him a certain way, or at the compliments that he was paid.”

“And you’re worried about what would happen if Bombur develops feelings for this man?” Balin guessed. It wasn’t surprising, Dori fussed over everyone he cared about and Bombur had earned a special place in his estimation when he had taken Nori in and given him a job when several other places had turned him away. All three of the Ri brothers were protective of Bombur in their own way. Dori fussed overtly, Nori was much subtler about his worry, and Ori would simply help Bombur with whatever he needed help with at that point in time.

“I know Bombur quite likely doesn’t have feelings for the man yet,” Dori replied, sighing and slumping back in his seat. “I’m worried about what will happen if he does develop feelings for him. It is clear that the possibility is there, you can see it when you watch them together. I simply…don’t know what to do about that. What if the man has no interest in Bombur beyond as his employer? I wouldn’t want him to get hurt again if we could prevent it.”

“How would you prevent it, Dori?” Balin asked, sighing softly and shaking his head. “Bombur is an adult, and though I know he’ll appreciate the worry, he will also tell you that he can handle himself. Whether or not something develops between himself and this new man, I have every confidence that he will be able to handle it.”

“You’re right, of course,” Dori agreed, sipping his tea musingly. There wasn’t even any guarantee that Bombur would be interested in this man, let alone care enough about him to risk heartbreak again.

“You are still going to research everything you can find about this man, aren’t you?” Balin asked. It wasn’t truly a question, and the look that Dori shot him just confirmed that. Balin just chuckled, sipping his tea and relaxing further into his chair. “Alright then, tell me what you already know about him.”

* * *

 

“It was amazing, Sam. Uncle Bilbo actually looked…happy,” Frodo finished, smiling at his friend. He had been detailing what had happened while he was visiting Bilbo since he’d returned home, and Sam had been listening attentively throughout. Both boys were in their apartment over the shop, books strewn around them and computers open as they worked on their respective essays. Frodo was taking a few business classes, but the rest of his classes focused on literature. Sam planned to take over his father’s gardening business, so he was also taking a few business classes, to ensure he would be able to run it after his father stepped down. Frodo wasn’t worried, Sam was a genius when it came to plants and even though he did have siblings, he was the best choice to take over the business once Hamfast stepped down.

“That’s great Frodo,” Sam said honestly, smiling at his friend. He had grown up across the street from Bilbo’s house, and as his father was Bilbo’s gardener, Sam had met the man fairly early. Once Frodo moved in with Bilbo, Sam had spent more time over there, since there were few enough children his age in the neighborhood and he enjoyed playing with Frodo, as well as sometimes helping his dad garden. It was good to hear that Bilbo was slowly starting to heal. “So, he’s gotten a new job?”

“Yeah, at a restaurant. Bombur’s Stewpot, I think he said,” Frodo replied, nodding. He didn’t recall ever going there before, but he planned to try their food soon, whenever he had a free day. “He talked about his boss a lot, when I could get him on the subject. Other than that, we just talked about my classes and things like that.”

“Still, a little information is better than none,” Sam pointed out. “And if he’s happy, isn’t it a good thing regardless of why? Whether it’s his boss or his job or whatever else? It will do him good, he needs to remember how to be happy.”

“I am happy for him, Sam. I’m just…worried about him too.” Bilbo had always been there for him, and he was the one who had gotten Frodo through the difficult time after his parents died. He loved his uncle dearly and just wanted to see him happy again, regardless of what was causing it. That didn’t mean that he wouldn’t worry, of course. He didn’t want Bilbo to get hurt, or upset because he had tried something and it didn’t work out. He thought his uncle was stronger than that, that he wouldn’t go to pieces over something like that, but he still remembered how empty Bilbo had been after the funeral, and he didn’t want to see his uncle hurt like that again.

“It will be fine, Frodo. Mr. Bilbo will be able to handle himself.” Sam had started calling Bilbo that as a joke years ago, when he had started apprenticing to his father. Hamfast called Bilbo by his first name outside of work, as the two were good friends, but it was always Mr. Baggins when he was working. Sam had tried that, but Bilbo had told him that he didn’t need to, and that calling him Bilbo would be fine. So, Sam had started calling him Mr. Bilbo just to tease him, and since the man had always gotten a laugh out of it, Sam had kept doing it. “I know you worry about him because of what happened to him, but you can’t protect him from everything. He’s a grown man, he knows what he can and can’t handle.”

“I know you’re right, Sam, but I’ll always worry,” Frodo admitted. He couldn’t help it, Bilbo was the only relative he had left that he was close to and he didn’t want to lose him. He wasn’t the same scared kid who had come to Bilbo after the accident, but part of him still worried that Bilbo would go away too. Seeing him after the funeral…that was one of the times he had worried the most, as Bilbo had looked like death itself when they were finally able to go home after the funeral.

“I know you do, and I know why, but you just have to trust in Bilbo,” Sam said simply, setting aside his computer and standing. “Now, I think it’s a good time to stop for a snack, don’t you?”

Frodo smiled, accepting the change in topic and standing. Sometimes, he felt very lucky to have a friend like Sam.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A warning about this chapter: Both Bilbo and Bombur visit a graveyard, Bilbo to visit his mother's grave and Bombur to visit his wife. There are mentions of illness as well. Nothing graphic, but I thought I'd post the warning just in case.

Bilbo stopped in front of his mother’s grave, sighing softly as he laid the flowers he’d brought in front of the tombstone. His mother hadn’t wanted anything elaborate, but he ensured that there were flowers planted nearby and he came as often as he could to bring more. His mother had always loved flowers, they had always had flowers in the house and their garden had been both practical and beautiful, vegetables and herbs in one half and flowers of all varieties on the other. For the first few months after the funeral, even looking at the flowers in their garden had been enough to bring up painful memories, but it was getting easier with time.

He brushed his fingers against the cold stone before putting them back in his jacket pockets, sighing softly. Sometimes he came and talked to her, other times he just came and remembered good times. Like when his mother had taught him to ice skate as a child, and he had fallen countless times before being able to stay on his feet. Or when she would drive them to visit Elrond, Bilbo keeping an eye on Elrond’s twin sons and daughter while Elrond and Belladonna talked.

Bilbo smiled faintly as he remembered cooking with his mother, her hair pulled back with one of the patterned scarves she liked and an apron. He remembered when she had put a bit of flour on the tip of his nose, and he had nearly gone cross eyed trying to see it. He wondered what she would think of him now, working in a restaurant rather than running Bag End. He thought that she would understand, he hoped that she would, at least.

He also spent the time thinking about his new job, how much fun he had been having the past week. Bombur was nice, he was getting along fairly well with Bofur as well, and he thought that he would get along with Dori and Ori well once he got to talk to them more. He was still a little wary around Nori and Bifur, but he thought that things were working out well. He was actually happy, and he knew that others had noticed.

Standing there in the graveyard, however, he could admit that it wasn’t only his job that was making him happy. Before and after his shift, he and Bombur would talk about food, exchanging recipes or talking about the best places to eat. He was moderately surprised at how well-traveled Bombur seemed to be. Or, if he hadn’t traveled to the places personally, then he had found authentic recipes somewhere and made them himself. Bilbo had traveled a lot with his mother when she was younger, so they had had more than a few good conversations in that vein.

What was worrying was that he was actually looking forward to those conversations even more than his job. He had taken the job in the first place just to have an excuse to leave his house. And now…now he was looking forward to it because he wanted to talk to Bombur. He was enjoying going to work just because of Bombur. On the whole, that might not be a bad thing, his mother had always said that you can never have too many good friends, but he was worried that he might consider Bombur as _more than_ just a friend.

Bilbo had never worried much about his sexuality. His mother had been accepting when Bilbo had haltingly confessed that he was attracted to men as well as women, and she assured him that his father would have been equally accepting, if he was alive. So, it wasn’t necessarily that Bombur was a man, more that he was interested in _anybody_ , as he hadn’t had a serious partner since before his mother had first fallen ill.

His last partner had been Glorfindel, an old friend of Elrond’s, and although he enjoyed talking to the man, they turned out to be better friends than they were lovers and had parted on good terms. The last he heard, Glorfindel was dating a librarian, if he was remembering right. Even with Glorfindel, however, there hadn’t been any sparks, nothing like what his mother had talked about with her father.

There weren’t sparks with Bombur yet, he didn’t think, but he did feel warm when they talked, when he said something that made the bigger man laugh. He liked sharing jokes, sharing recipes, and just talking to him after they were done working for the day. It was nice, and although he wasn’t exactly starved for companionship, he wouldn’t turn down a new friend. But Bombur…he was special. Special how, Bilbo was refraining from analyzing, but it was nice to have a friend like him.

He would admit, only to himself, that trying to organize his thoughts was easier when he was talking out loud. Whether his mother could hear him or not, he didn’t know. He had never had an abundance of faith in any one religion. He had a few loosely held beliefs, but nothing concrete. So, he had never been able to decide whether or not his mother would be able to hear him from where she was now. He liked to believe she was watching over him, she had always believed in guardian angels and told him that angels were watching over him.

As he was leaving the cemetery, he saw the last person he would expect. “Bombur?”

* * *

 

Bombur had just finished visiting his wife’s grave, as he did once a week, but he startled as he heard someone calling him. Turning, he saw his newest employee, Bilbo Baggins, and he blinked. “Bilbo, I didn’t expect to see you here today.” He wasn’t aware that Bilbo was going to be there at all, he hadn’t been aware that Bilbo had lost anyone at all, actually.

“Yes, I was…visiting my mother. She…she passed six months ago,” Bilbo admitted, ducking his head down and putting his hands in his pockets. “I try to visit her often, but…”

“It’s hard,” Bombur finished, sighing softly. “In the beginning, I wasn’t able to come all that often either. It was just too painful. Time…time does help somewhat.”

“Who…who are you visiting?” Bilbo asked, and then winced as he realized what he’d said. “My apologies, you don’t have to tell me. That was too personal, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Bilbo,” Bombur said, patting his shoulder. “My wife, Alice, passed two years ago. I try to visit her once a week, tell her how the kids are doing and what’s been happening in the restaurant. She was always so proud of how well it did, it was her idea to buy the place in the beginning, you know.”

“No,” Bilbo said honestly, shaking his head. “I didn’t…I hadn’t known that you were married, or that you had children. Your wife is the one who convinced you to buy the restaurant?”

Bombur nodded, smiling. “The restaurant I was working in closed down, and she suggested that we take our savings and buy a restaurant that had closed and make it our own. She said we would be successful because she had every confidence in my cooking ability. I told her that if we were successful, it would be because of her, she was the type of person who could light up the room without even trying.”

Bilbo nodded, smiling faintly and thoughts of his worries about Bombur dissipating. “My mother was the same way,” he admitted. “She owned a bookshop, she and my father had bought it not long after they married. I swear that half of the patrons came in to talk to her rather than to browse the books.”

“I said the same about Alice,” Bombur said, chuckling. “She was a force to be reckoned with. She may not have been a cook, but she was the heart of the restaurant. Our customers loved talking to her. She would wander through the restaurant, our youngest at the time in a sling, chatting to people and making them feel welcome.”

“My mother would let me play on the floor of the bookstore when I was a kid, behind the register she would have a little box of toys for me. She let other kids play with them too, while their parents were browsing the books,” Bilbo remembered, smiling fondly.

It hurt less, remembering them like this. It was easier to remember them alive and vibrant, than remembering them as they had last seen them, in hospital beds in sterile, colorless rooms, fading slowly. It was nice, to talk to someone else, to remember what they had loved about the person rather than remembering the bad things that had happened in the end.

“Would you like to get something to eat?” Bombur asked, looking over at Bilbo after a moment. “It’s…I’m enjoying this, honestly. It’s hard, sometimes, to talk about Alice, but I’ve enjoyed this.”

“I have too,” Bilbo replied, smiling sadly. “I haven’t talked about my mother since the funeral, and its felt good to be able to do so now.” Maybe it was because Bombur didn’t know his mother, and perhaps that was why Bombur felt comfortable sharing about his wife.

“There’s a place that makes great sandwiches not far from here, we can go, and talk about them while we sit and eat,” Bombur offered, and Bilbo nodded, following the bigger man out of the cemetery. Both of them looked back over their shoulders, saying a wordless goodbye, before leaving.

Bombur and Bilbo sat across from each other at a table in a little hole in the wall sandwich shop, sharing stories about their loved ones. Bilbo told Bombur about the time he had run off searching for elves in the woods near his house and how his mother had scolded him for not leaving a note. Bombur shared about how he first met Alice, sitting at the back of the bus and working on a new recipe. She had sat down beside him and asked what he was working on, and it had gone from there.

It hurt, of course, remembering them and knowing that there were so many things that neither would be able to experience, but it was also cathartic, remembering the good times without getting lost in the bad.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a little later than usual today, I was busy this morning.

After that first talk, Bilbo and Bombur made a tradition out of it. Once a week, when they went to the cemetery to visit their loved ones, they would meet up when they left. They would go somewhere, get something to eat, and talk. Reminiscing, really, talking about the good times spent with their families. Neither of them mentioned the last time they had been with their loved ones, sitting beside hospital beds, holding hands gone frail and lacking all of their former vitality.

Instead, they talked about the happier things. The road trips Bilbo had gone on with his mother, the various places Bombur and his wife had visited, sampling food from all over and making interesting friends along the way. They talked about the good times, and even if they didn’t mention the bad, it seemed to help them cope.

Of course, others noticed the change. Frodo, Sam, and Elrond were all quietly gleeful over the change in Bilbo. In a matter of weeks, he was less pale, less sorrowful and less consumed by his grief. It was still there, the shadows were still in his eyes, but it was less prominent than before. Bilbo still didn’t go into Bag End more than once a week, the memories of his mother behind every shelf were still too much for him, but he was getting better and it was more than they had hoped for. While they didn’t know the particulars, Bilbo never mentioned the talks he had with Bombur, they knew that it was something to do with his job, with the new friends he was making. Whether anything evolved between Bilbo and Bombur, and Frodo and Elrond had a running bet about that, they were just happy that Bilbo was happy.

Likewise, Bombur’s family were also pleased with the change in him. There were still shadows lingering, they knew that there would always be. He would never forget Alice, he would always mourn her, but it seemed that he was better. His smiles were more genuine, he laughed more freely…he was closer to the man he had been before Alice’s death than he had been in the past two years. The younger children didn’t notice, of course. They were young and Bombur had always been good at putting up a front in front of his children. Amabel noticed, however, and talking to her uncles provided her with interesting insight as to her father’s newfound happiness.

* * *

 

“So, what’s he like?” Amabel asked, leaning against the side of her father’s desk as he balanced the books for the restaurant. At eighteen, she was the oldest of the brood and usually helped her father with her siblings. She would be graduating soon, planning on going to the local community college in the fall as they had offered her a scholarship and had the classes she needed, with the added benefit of being closer to home and cheaper than a few of the other colleges nearby.

“What is who like?” Bombur asked, looking up once he finished with the papers he was working on, focusing on his eldest. Amabel sometimes came to the restaurant simply to visit, of course. A few times she had borrowed an empty table and worked on schoolwork, ordering a snack if she was going to be there until closing. So, her popping in wasn’t unusual, but she usually spent her days off from school elsewhere.

“The new guy, Bilbo. Uncle Bofur said that you and he are close. So, what’s he like,” Amabel prompted. She wasn’t sure what to think, honestly. She hadn’t known her father was attracted to men, she had only seen him with her mother, obviously, but she wasn’t bothered by it. Love is love, and she wasn’t worried about her father being with someone else. She knew that her mother wouldn’t want her father to be alone for the rest of his life just because she was gone, she wouldn’t condemn him to a life of misery because of her death. Still, it was a bit odd for Amabel, sitting there and asking her father about his new crush.

Bombur blushed faintly, looking down at the papers on the desk, shuffling them so he had something to do other than look at his daughter. “He is a good man, from what I’ve seen. Shows up for his shifts on time, doesn’t shirk his duties. He’s a good cook, and he hasn’t minded the few times I had him as a waiter instead.”

Amabel rolled her eyes. “I could have got all of that from Uncle Bofur,” she protested. “I wanted to know more about Bilbo. Do you like him? Uncle Bofur said you do, but Dori disagreed.” She had a feeling that Nori was running a betting pool about this, it wouldn’t be like him to miss out on that opportunity.

“I’m going to have your uncle on dish duty for a month,” Bombur grumbled, looking up at Amabel. “Bilbo and I are just friends. That’s all. We share recipes and talk, that’s it.” Admittedly, once or twice his mind had turned in another direction, wondering what it would be like to be with Bilbo, to date someone again. But always, hesitance had stopped him from taking that last step, from asking Bilbo to come home for dinner or even lightly flirting. He knew his wife wouldn’t hold this against him, would likely be telling him to go for it if she could.

He still couldn’t help but worry, however. He had thought that he and Alice would be together forever, that they would grow old together and retire somewhere peaceful, their kids and grandkids would visit on the weekends…he sighed softly. That plan had never come to fruition, and he couldn’t help but worry that if he started something with Bilbo, something would happen to him and Bombur would be alone once again.

“Do you want to be more than friends?” Amabel asked, breaking Bombur out of his thoughts and causing him to look up, blinking. “Do you want to date Bilbo?” she elaborated, when she realized that he was confused and hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation before that, lost in his thoughts.

“I…” Bombur started, then stopped. His first instinct was to protest, as he did whenever Bofur had jokingly brought it up, but he wasn’t quite able to manage that. He’d never lied to his kids before, and he didn’t intend to start now. But, he also wasn’t sure if he was willing to admit to anyone that he had an interest in Bilbo, especially not his teenaged daughter. “I don’t know,” he settled on, after a few moments thought.

“Dad, you can date again, you know,” Amabel said softly. “Mom wouldn’t want you to be alone for the rest of your life. Even with us, I know you get lonely sometimes.” She knew that he loved them, but he also needed adult conversation sometimes. He could talk to her, and they did, but it wasn’t the same as having a partner to talk to.

“I know,” Bombur sighed, leaning back in his chair. “And I’ll deal with it, Amabel, don’t worry about me. I just have to figure it out.” He didn’t know if Bilbo would even be interested in dating him. They had a good friendship, and for now he was content with that. In a while, maybe he would broach the subject, ask Bilbo if he was interested in dating, but for now he was content.

* * *

 

“So, are you attracted to him?” Elrond asked, and Bilbo sighed. He had only gone to the bookstore today because he needed to be there to help unpack the newest shipment of books and drop off the paperwork he had done. If he’d known that Elrond would be there, and in a matchmaking mood, then he would have just postponed until tomorrow.

“Elrond, he is my boss and a good friend, that is all,” Bilbo sighed, unpacking the Harry Potter books. Even several years after the last had come out, people still came to buy them and they always ensured to have a few copies of each book on the shelves. “Regardless of what you think, we are just friends. He was married to a woman until two years ago!”

“And that means that he cannot be attracted to you?” Elrond asked, arching an eyebrow, and Bilbo sighed again before turning his attention back to the books. The other man had a point, he grudgingly admitted, but he wasn’t sure if asking Bombur out would be the wisest course of action. He had no idea if the man was interested in men at all, honestly, and he didn’t want to risk their friendship just because he was lonely. He enjoyed their conversations, and he liked his job, and he didn’t want to risk jeopardizing that if Bombur didn’t feel the same way.

“You will never know unless you try,” Elrond continued, drawing Bilbo out of his thoughts. “If you are interested in this man, ask him if he would be interested in dating you. If he isn’t, I doubt that he will fire you. And if he is…then you will have gained a new relationship.”

“I hate it when you make sense,” Bilbo muttered, setting aside the books and leaning back with a sigh. “I’ll remind you of this when Arwen brings Aragorn over to visit again. You may have taken the lad in after his mother’s death, but you still dislike him on principle at present as he is dating your daughter.”

“I will go to that restaurant and tell the man that you want to date him,” Elrond threatened, scowling, and Bilbo laughed. “He is a good man, I simply will never think that anyone is good enough for my daughter, and you would be the same if you had children.”

“Fair enough,” Bilbo allowed. He didn’t want to think about how nervous he would be when Frodo went out on a date, worried that his nephew would get his heart broken, or fall for someone unsuitable, or any number of other bad scenarios. “But I will handle my relationship with Bombur in my own time. Find someone else’s love life to meddle in, Elrond.”

“But then, Bilbo, what would happen to our delightful conversations?” Elrond asked, smirking when Bilbo started laughing.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Matchmakers are dangerous, and our favorite couple is unaware of just how many of them are plotting.

“Okay, this is getting ridiculous,” Bofur grumbled, flopping into the booth beside Bifur, Ori, Nori, and Dori squeezed together on the other side. It had now been a two months since Bilbo had been hired by Bombur, and they all could admit that the small man was a good fit for the restaurant.

But, honestly, the mutual pining needed to stop. It was clear that Bombur was interested in Bilbo, just afraid to take the first step because he was worried about something happening to Bilbo, just like it had happened to Alice, and while Bofur didn’t blame him, he was sorely tempted to just shove his brother at Bilbo and shout ‘just kiss already!’.

Likewise, it was evident that Bilbo was interested in Bombur. Bofur didn’t know as much about the smaller man, but he did know that something had happened in Bilbo’s life to make him wary about jumping into a relationship even when he was interested in someone. But, again, even though Bofur understood that, it didn’t stop him from wanting to trap the two of them in an elevator, or just shove them together somehow. Anything to stop the mutual pining.

“I agree,” Dori replied, sipping his tea. “In the beginning, it was rather sweet, watching the two of them discover their attraction to each other, but at this point it has gotten rather sad.” He wanted Bombur to be happy, and he was fond of Bilbo as well, so it was irritating when it was clear that there was a mutual attraction but the men were both letting their fears get in the way of their happiness.

“So, how do we get them together?” Ori asked practically, fiddling with his knitted, fingerless gloves. Ori was usually covered in some form of knitwear, knitted either by Dori or himself, and today was no exception. “Because we can’t let them go on like they have been.”

“If we do that, Breccan will be graduating before they get together,” Bofur grumbled, thinking of his brother’s youngest child. And since the boy was only a little over two years old, that was saying quite a lot.

“So, what are we going to do to get them together before we’re all old, grey, and fed up with their dancing around the issue,” Nori asked, cleaning his nails with his pocket knife. He liked Bombur, was grateful to him for the chance he’d been given and was protective over him, but that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t tell the man when he was being an idiot. And in this case, both Bombur and Bilbo were being idiots.

“There’s that wine-tasting that’s coming up next month,” Dori mused. “Bombur usually asks me to accompany him, but why couldn’t Bilbo go instead?”

“He’ll ask everyone before he asks Bilbo,” Nori said, smirking as he added, “So we’re going to either need to convince Bilbo to volunteer or all arrange to have plans for the day of the wine-tasting.” Which shouldn’t be too difficult, they could always lie about their plans, as long as they kept their lies straight.

“It’s more than one day,” Dori replied, a small, devilish smile coming to the fore. At that moment, it wasn’t difficult to believe that he and Nori were related. “We usually drive up the day before, as it is rather far. We get a hotel room, talk to the others who are in town for the same convention, and then go to the wine-tasting the next day. Depending on how long it takes, we either return that day or wait until the next.”

“So we could have Bilbo and Bombur stuck in a hotel together for three days,” Bofur replied, grinning. He and Bifur usually watched the kids when Dori and Bombur went on their annual trip, often with Nori and Ori dropping by to help or simply visit the kids (not that Nori would admit that), so both he and Bifur were already out of the running. Besides, his brother knew that he was more of an ale man.

“There’s a trip coming up, one of my professor’s mentioned it,” Ori piped up. “It should only take up a day, but it’s enough that Bombur couldn’t ask me to go.” He hadn’t decided one way or the other if he would go, but if it would help get Bilbo and Bombur together, he would.

“I’ll say that Dwalin wants to get out of town for a few days,” Nori replied, shrugging. They both enjoyed their jobs, but they also liked taking trips every so often, getting away from their usual routine. It wouldn’t be hard to convince Bombur that he and Dwalin felt the itch to take a trip again. “So, that just leaves you, Dori. What will you do to convince Bombur that you’re turning down a few days of fabulous wine?”

“I’ll tell him that Balin has plans for those days, that he will not explain further,” Dori said simply. “Choosing sex over a dull conference? Bombur won’t be the least surprised.” The others all choked on their drinks, as it wasn’t often that Dori was that blunt, and it seemed like Bifur was the only one still composed, patting his younger cousin on the back with distinct amusement.

“Damn, Dori, warn a man won’t you?” Nori grumbled, dabbing at his now stained shirt as he’d spilt his drink when his prim and proper brother had suddenly decided to take a page from his own book.

“Oh pish, you all have said worse before, even those of you who are too young to be speaking so crudely,” Dori said, with a pointed look at Ori. “Regardless, it seems as though we all have something that will render us unable to accompany Bombur to the wine-tasting.”

“Good, because if someone doesn’t do something soon, I’ll be shoving their heads together,” Bofur grumbled.

* * *

 

“Thanks for meeting me here on such short notice,” Amabel said, smiling as Frodo Baggins sat down at the table across from her. Her auburn hair was pulled back in an elaborate braid, and she had earrings that were shaped like tiny books.

“I was pretty surprised,” Frodo admitted, smiling as he sat down. “But once you explained who you are…” He hadn’t been able to resist. He had been trying to convince his uncle to go out with his boss for the past few weeks, and nothing had come from it. When he’d received a call from said boss’ daughter, he hadn’t been able to resist meeting her.

“Well, it’s getting a bit ridiculous, I think you’ll agree,” Amabel replied. “My name is Amabel Broadbeam, but you can call me Bel if you want.”

“Your parents had a penchant for unusual names too, huh?” Frodo asked, chuckling. “Frodo Baggins, nice to meet you. So, your father is interested in my uncle?”

Amabel nodded, sighing. “But my dad won’t do anything about it. He went through a really hard time, when my mother passed, and I think he’s afraid of loving someone and risking losing them again.”

“Uncle Bilbo’s the same way,” Frodo admitted. “He’s afraid to say anything to Bombur about his feelings because he isn’t sure if Bombur would be interested in men in general, or him specifically.” It was frustrating, knowing that his uncle was so close to someone that would make him happy and letting fear hold him back.

“Well, I can say that yes, my father is interested in him, and men in general,” Amabel replied, shrugging. “So, what we need to do is come up with a way to get the two of them to be in the same place at the same time, outside of work.”

“Do you have any ideas?” Frodo asked. “Because honestly, I want to help them, but I’m not sure what the first step should be.” He didn’t want to risk damaging the relationship that the two men already had, so they would have to be careful.

“I have something in mind,” Amabel replied, smiling. “I’ll ask my father to come with me to that new restaurant that just opened, try out the new food. You can ask your uncle to do the same.”

“And we’ll ensure that the two are seated at the same table, and we won’t be there,” Frodo finished, catching on and grinning. “It’s brilliant. Do you think it will work?”

“I’ve spent a lot of time with Nori,” Amabel said, smirking. “And I think it should work. We can even see about getting the employees at the new place involved. I think I might know a few of them.” A few of the younger members of the staff went to the same school she did, and were either her age or a year or so older.

“So, when do you want to do this? Soon, hopefully, because Elrond is getting fed up, and so are Sam and I.” It seemed like everyone was, honestly. If Bilbo and Bombur weren’t attracted to each other, it would be different, but it was clear to everyone who knew them that they were interested in each other.

“Hm…there’s a deal Friday night, to celebrate the grand opening,” Amabel mused. “So much off certain dishes. We could arrange it then.” It would give them a reason to go, and it would also get everything arranged satisfactorily.

Frodo nodded in agreement. “Friday then. We can go tomorrow and book a table for them. We’ll make some excuse about running late, so that they’ll give their names to be taken to the table.”

“And we’ll have it arranged that it’s the same table,” Amabel finished. “Perfect. This will be great.” Granted, she knew that her father and Bilbo would realize what had happened once they were both at the table, but hopefully they would decide to play along.

“I agree. And if this doesn’t work, we’ll have to find something more devious,” Frodo replied, smirking as he added, “If all else fails, we can always trap them in an elevator together until they talk it out.”

Amabel laughed, shaking her head. “Let’s save that as a last resort,” she said, and both of them chuckled before turning back to their sandwiches. They could finish their plotting after they’d had lunch.


	11. Chapter 11

Amabel and Frodo met up the next day at the same café, getting lunch and refining their plan before heading to the restaurant. It was a nice place, vegetarian food and a comfortable yet classy atmosphere.

“My dad kind of knows the owner,” Amabel explained, opening the door and walking in. It wasn’t open yet, and there were a few people getting ready for when it did. One of them, a tall, slim, blonde man came over, and he smiled as he apparently recognized Amabel.

“Is your father responsible for some of the patrons we’ve had?” the man asked, amusement clear in his voice. “Because I know that Thorin Durin would have never set foot in my restaurant if it wasn’t for a recommendation from your father.”

“Well, it’s your fault for inviting my father to your soft opening,” Amabel replied, chuckling. “Of course he’ll talk up your business to his friends.” Besides, as their restaurant sold mainly comfort food and this restaurant was vegetarian, with a few vegan selections as well, they weren’t in direct competition so it didn’t hurt to talk up the business. “He knows how hard it is to open a new business, so he likes to help when he can.”

“True,” the blonde man mused, before turning to Frodo. “I don’t believe that we have met before. My name is Thranduil, and I am the part owner of Greenwood Restaurant.”

“Frodo Baggins,” he replied, shaking Thranduil’s hand. “Amabel was talking up the food here, so I suggested that we make a reservation for tomorrow. With the deals that you are offering, I am certain that it will be packed, and we would like to guarantee a table.”

“We can do that, of course,” Thranduil replied, but he gave them both a sharp look. “But, I would also like to know what you are attempting to do.”

“Isn’t plausible deniability better?” Amabel asked innocently, chuckling as she looked over at Frodo. “Thranduil’s son, Legolas, is around our age, so he is rarely fooled by an innocent sounding proposal.”

“As well as the fact that my partner has three children, so I am quite capable of discovering whatever plan you are attempting to solicit my help for,” Thranduil confirmed, chuckling. “So, what is it that you are trying to do? Are you going to be bringing all of your fathers’ friends? Because even gratitude for the assistance will not stop me from throwing them out when they start throwing food.”

“No, nothing like that,” Amabel replied, although she couldn’t help smirking as she remembered Thranduil’s reaction to being pelted with food. “No, we just need one table, or a booth if you think it would be better, for myself, my father, Frodo, and his uncle. That is honestly it.”

Thranduil looked at her speculatively, but he nodded after a moment. “Fine. I will set aside a table for the four of you, but if your father is against this, I will not be held accountable.” Bombur had been kind to him when it came to starting his business, and he didn’t want to risk ruining that for Amabel’s plotting.

“Don’t worry, he’s going to be very happy,” Amabel replied. At least, that was the hope. “Now, I have to stay late at school that day, so my father will likely show up on his own.”

“The same goes for my uncle,” Frodo piped up. “I’ll be stuck late doing inventory, so I’ll likely arrive after he does.”

“They can give their names and be shown to the table,” Thranduil said simply. “I know Bombur already, of course, I would simply need your uncle’s name, Frodo.”

“Bilbo Baggins,” Frodo replied, smiling. Maybe this would work after all. Thranduil seemed suspicious, but he would still reserve the table. It wouldn’t be hard for either of them to send Bombur and Bilbo ahead of them, and as the table would be reserved under both of their names…that would handle the rest.

Of course, now that Thranduil already suspected them of something, it would take Bombur and Bilbo even less time to realize who had set them up, but if it helped Bombur and Bilbo get together, it was a risk worth taking.

Amabel thanked Thranduil for his help and led the way out of the restaurant. “Tomorrow night, if everything goes well, Dad and Mr. Baggins will finally stop pining for each other.” She hated seeing her father upset, and hopefully this would help him be happier. She wasn’t very fond of matchmaking personally, she had never been a busybody, but she wanted her father to take a chance, and if he wouldn’t do it, she was more than capable of giving him a nudge. Talking hadn’t done anything, nor had hints or advice, from what the others had said, so this was their last resort.

Frodo likewise hated matchmaking, but for his uncle he would do anything. The man had taken him in, protected him from the Sackville-Baggins and others who just wanted his inheritance, and anything that he could do to pay Bilbo back, even a fraction, he would do it. “Tomorrow night. So, where are you really going to be when we’re supposed to be meeting at the restaurant?”

“Babysitting probably, Uncle Bofur will be happy to have the night free,” Amabel replied, shrugging. She didn’t mind watching her siblings, and as long as she didn’t go home until after Bombur and Bilbo were in the restaurant, her uncle wouldn’t be able to say anything. “What about you?”

“Sam entered a baking contest, I told him I’d be there to support him,” Frodo replied, smiling. “He’s nervous, but I’m pretty sure that he’s going to win.”

“Well, it seems like we both have plans we can’t get out of,” Amabel said, smirking as they prepared to separate.

“How sad, hopefully they’ll manage without us,” Frodo said dryly. Amabel’s laughter followed him down the street as they separated.

* * *

 

“Bombur? What are you doing here?” Bilbo asked, stopping beside the table as the hostess left. He had dressed up slightly, wearing his favorite waistcoat, green with little acorn shaped buttons, and his favorite red jacket, and he thought that he looked fairly well put together for a night out with his nephew, trying out a new restaurant. Dressy enough without going too far. But that didn’t explain why Bombur was sitting at his table.

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Bombur replied, just as thrown as Bilbo. He was dressed the same as he usually did for work, minus his apron, and he’d been looking forward to a night with his eldest, catching up with her about school and whatever else she wanted to talk about. Sometimes, he knew, he depended on her a little too much for babysitting, but she never complained and she still did have time for fun. Still, he usually had to take care of the youngest kids more often than he had to take care of Amabel, so he was looking forward to getting time to talk to her. “I was supposed to be meeting my daughter here for dinner.”

“I was supposed to meet Frodo here,” Bilbo replied, sitting down when Bombur gestured. “He said that a friend told him that the food here is excellent, so he made a reservation. He told me that he would be late, finishing up inventory at the store.”

“And Amabel said that she would be late, she was tutoring someone,” Bombur replied, eyes narrowing. “She said that she’d heard about the deals they were offering tonight and wanted to come here. You know what this means?”

Bilbo had to wait to answer, as the waiter came to take their drink orders. Once they’d ordered drinks and their appetizers, they turned back to each other. “We were set up,” he said, sighing and leaning back in his seat. “How did they meet? I had only heard of your children, I’ve never met any of them and I certainly didn’t bring Frodo to the restaurant yet.”

“Amabel’s resourceful, and from what you’ve told me about your nephew, he is too. It wouldn’t surprise me if they sought each other out,” Bombur replied, sighing. “I should have known, she usually just goes with me rather than catching the bus to meet me.”

“And Frodo usually finishes all of the inventory before he closes the store for the day,” Bilbo admitted, shaking his head. “I should have expected this. But…why would they have set us up?” He could understand why Frodo would set him up with Bombur, his nephew hadn’t been subtle when he’d suggested asking Bombur out, even less so than Elrond if that was possible. But why would Bombur’s daughter arrange for her father to be here?

Bombur hesitated, he knew why his daughter had brought him here and he could assume why Bilbo’s nephew had done the same, but he wasn’t sure if he should say anything. Then again, he was always telling the kids to go for what they wanted, and he would be a hypocrite if he didn’t do the same. Better to try and strike out rather than continue to ask himself what if.

“Amabel knows that I am interested in you,” Bombur said after a moment, deciding to be blunt. “And I’d guess that she talked to Frodo and they arranged this. Unless I am mistaken, and I will not be offended if you have no interest in me and I hope that this didn’t ruin our working relationship.” He wanted to be sure that he wouldn’t lose Bilbo as a friend or as a cook because of this, if it turned out that he was wrong.

“I…you aren’t mistaken,” Bilbo said, blushing and cursing himself for it. He probably looked like one of his prized tomatoes by now. “I…Frodo knows of my interest in you, but I hadn’t…you mentioned your wife and I didn’t know if you were…well, I didn’t want to ruin our friendship if I was wrong.”

“I worried about that as well,” Bombur admitted. “But, apparently, my daughter and your nephew were less worried than we are.” He wasn’t sure if he should be thanking Amabel, or grounding her. He couldn’t believe that she had decided to matchmake, it wasn’t like her.

“Well, as we’re here…maybe we could get to know each other outside of work and our other meetings?” Bilbo asked, smiling at Bombur. “After all, we wouldn’t want their plans to go to waste, and I’ve heard the food is excellent.”

“I can vouch for that,” Bombur replied, smiling back and picking up his menu. As first dates went, he thought that this would be a pretty good one, as he and Bilbo both began looking through the menu, chatting amiably about the food.

Perhaps Amabel wouldn’t be grounded after all.


	12. Chapter 12

Bombur and Bilbo actually enjoyed themselves on their impromptu date. It shouldn’t be all that surprising really, as they spent a fair amount of time at work together, as well as the time spent reminiscing after their weekly trips to the cemetery. Still, they talked and laughed, enjoying the food and the company, splitting the bill before parting ways.

There was no need to arrange when to meet again, as they would see each other at work tomorrow, so once Bombur had watched Bilbo head safely to his car, he’d gotten into his own car and driven home. Most of the lights were out, and Bofur’s car was suspiciously absent. When he walked inside, it was clear that Amabel had sent Bofur away, likely volunteering to babysit so he could do something or the other. The youngest were already in bed, the elder few were in their rooms, finishing up homework or playing games until it was time to go to sleep. Call him old-fashioned, but he gave all of his children, even Amabel, a bedtime, so that he knew that they got enough sleep for school.

He checked in an all of them, little Breccan was tangled in his sheets and he gently straightened them out. He said goodnight to the ones who were awake, straightened blankets and pressed kisses to the foreheads of those already asleep, and headed to his eldest daughter’s room last. She was reclined in her bed, reading a book and humming along to the radio, tuned to some seasonal music station. At the moment, even though Christmas was still over a month away, Christmas carols were playing.

“Did you have a good time on your date?” Amabel asked, sitting up properly and setting the book beside her once she’d marked her place. She looked anxious, worried that he would be upset with her for what she did or that she had inadvertently ruined whatever had been building between him and Bilbo.

Bombur sat down on the bed, Amabel pulling her legs up so that he had room. “We had a very good time, even after we realized that we had been set up.” There wasn’t any reason to make her worry about that, but he couldn’t let her off completely. “Why did you do that, Amabel? Bilbo and I were worried when you and Frodo didn’t show, before we realized that we had been set up.”

Amabel sighed softly, wrapping her arms around her knees. “I wanted you to be happy. That’s it, Dad. I knew that you cared about Bilbo, and that he cared about you too, but you two were both too afraid to do anything about it. So, Frodo and I met up, and we found a way to get the two of you together. You looked so happy with Bilbo, Dad, and I wanted you to be that happy all the time. When…well, it’s been a long time since I saw you that happy, and I just…didn’t want you to miss out on it because you were afraid.”

Bombur sighed softly, coaxing Amabel to uncurl so that he could hug her gently. “It’s not your job to worry about me,” he murmured. “I’m your father, I should be pestering you about your partners, threatening whoever asks you out and making sure that you’ll have enough money to catch a cab if something happens. You shouldn’t be worrying about me, Amabel.”

“You’re my dad, of course I worry about you,” Amabel murmured, her voice muffled as she’d buried her face in his shoulder. She had his sturdy frame and her mother’s height and curves, and she was so smart and mature that it was sometimes hard to remember that she was just a teenager. “I want you to be happy. I don’t want you to…to go back to how you were after the funeral.”

Bombur held her tighter at that admission. He had kept it from the kids as much as possible, not wanting to frighten them, but Amabel wasn’t a fool. She had sat him down when even Bofur and Bifur had failed to reason with him, and he was still grateful for that. Still, it wasn’t his daughter’s place to be worrying about him. “I won’t go back to that. Regardless of if Bilbo and I date or we would have remained friends, I wouldn’t go back to how I was then. I promise you, and you know that I don’t break my promises.” He waited for her muffled agreement before he continued. “It is sweet that you care so much, but you need to focus on your own life. Don’t let worries for me and my love life get in your way. Do what makes you happy, isn’t that what your mother always said.”

Amabel nodded. Her mother had always said that, and it had been one of her more successful arguments in breaking her father from the depression that had settled over him after the funeral. “I’ll remember,” she murmured. She was glad that their plan had worked though. Even through the brief scolding about lying and promises to apologize to Bilbo and Thranduil, her father’s eyes still glowed with happiness. It was worth it, to get her father to look like that.

* * *

 

Bilbo stopped at Frodo and Sam’s on his way home, deciding to talk to his nephew now rather than later. Although he was happy how things had turned out, he didn’t want his nephew to think that he needed to matchmake or interfere in his personal life like this regularly. He would thank him, of course, and he couldn’t really ground him as Frodo was an adult, but he would ensure that his nephew understood why he didn’t want it to happen again.

Frodo and Sam were both gone when he arrived, however, so he simply left a note for Frodo, telling his nephew that he wanted to talk to him, before heading back home. He took off his waistcoat, shoes and socks following soon after. He put on the kettle for tea and started a fire in the fireplace, getting his favorite robe, multicolored patchwork that he’d had for years, and settling in for an evening of relaxation.

When Frodo arrived, letting himself in with his key, Bilbo was sitting by the fire, feet propped up on a footstool and sipping his tea while reading. He looked up at Frodo with a smile. “You got my note, I see. I hadn’t known that you and Samwise had plans.”

“Sam was in a competition, I went to cheer him on,” Frodo replied, taking the chair across from his uncle. “He won, and we went out to dinner afterwards. My treat, to celebrate his win, not that I was surprised that he did win.”

“Ah yes, I believe young Samwise mentioned entering the last time I saw him,” Bilbo replied, nodding and smiling. It was nice to see something happen to the fairly quiet young man, but it didn’t detract from what Bilbo wanted to speak to Frodo about. “Although, it would have been prudent for you to mention that the competition was tonight and that you would not be showing up for dinner.”

Frodo at least had the grace to look sheepish. “After Amabel contacted me, I agreed to meet her. It couldn’t hurt, after all. We started to talk, and we both decided that there was no reason for you and Bombur to pine when you could be happy with each other. So we arranged for a table for both of you tonight, and conveniently forgot to show up when we said we would.”

“Frodo, it isn’t for you, or Amabel for that matter, to decide what happens in my life or Bombur’s,” Bilbo replied. “It is up to me, and to Bombur as we are now in a relationship, to decide what happens in my personal life. While I appreciate that you wanted to help, there are many things that could have gone wrong.”

“Nothing did, did it?” Frodo asked worriedly. “Bombur was there, and neither of you were that angry about being set up? And he does like you? Amabel said he does, and I trust her judgment in that.”

Bilbo sighed softly but shook his head. “Nothing went wrong. It was a wonderful evening, and Bombur and I decided to try our hand at dating, but I still wanted to request that, regardless of what happens with Bombur, you don’t attempt to meddle in my personal life.” Frodo would mean well, of course, but Bilbo had taken care of the lad since his parents had died and he didn’t want Frodo to worry about him. He could take care of himself, he didn’t need, or want, Frodo to worry about him every time he became anxious about something or the other.

“I just wanted you to be happy, Uncle Bilbo,” Frodo admitted, sighing softly. “You have been so upset lately, and then when you started working at the restaurant…it was like you were going back to how you were. And then you were talking about your boss and it was obvious that you were smitten with him and I just wanted to help. You care for him and he cares for you…I just didn’t see the point in you both pining needlessly when you could be happy together.”

“Well, as grateful as I am for the attempt, you don’t need to worry about me,” Bilbo replied, smiling at his nephew. “I am truly grateful, and happy that Bombur and I are dating, but I don’t want you to worry about me, alright?”

Frodo nodded, he could agree with that. At least the plan had worked and the pining would be resolved. Bilbo would be happy, Bombur would be happy…and it seemed that their plotting had been forgiven fairly easily. As long as he didn’t meddle in the relationship any longer, then he didn’t have to worry. Although, he did wonder if his uncle would count joining the betting pool that Amabel said the others were running at the restaurant as meddling.


	13. Chapter 13

Bombur and Bilbo agreed, during their second date, to keep their relationship quiet for now. Amabel and Frodo both knew, of course, but they had been asked to keep the secret and had agreed. Both of them knew that their friends, although they would mean well, would try to meddle. Neither Bilbo nor Bombur wanted that right now, they wanted time to see how their relationship would progress before their friends got involved. One attempt at matchmaking, regardless of how successful it was, was all that either of them could take. They felt a little guilty, they knew that their friends would be happy for them, but just a few weeks after they started dating, they received proof that they’d made the right decision.

* * *

 

Bombur walked into the kitchen after the last customer had left, two weeks after he and Bilbo had started dating, frowning in evident confusion. “Something wrong, love?” Bilbo asked, looking up at him. The others had all left, Bilbo having volunteered to help Bombur tidy up, so he wasn’t worried about anyone overhearing them.

“Dori doesn’t want to go to the conference with me,” Bombur replied, puzzled. He started to dry the dishes that Bilbo had just washed, putting them away neatly. “He usually accompanies me, we’ll leave the night before and come home the day after it ends. We see about getting new wines for the restaurant, occasionally other alcohol as well. Dori usually comes with me because he has the most experience with wine, his taste is impeccable. But he said that Balin has something planned for them, and that he won’t be able to attend this year.”

“Wouldn’t he have cleared the dates, if it was that important?” Bilbo asked, confused. He had gone to a few conferences and seminars, and he had always known of the date well ahead of time. He assumed that the same would be true for Bombur’s conference, so he didn’t understand why Dori hadn’t known when it would be.

“That’s the thing, he knew exactly when it would be and he’d already told me that he was free,” Bombur replied, shaking his head. “Bofur and Bifur will be watching the kids, so they can’t come, besides the fact that Bofur doesn’t like wine very much. I tried asking Ori before he left with his brothers, but he said that he was busy as well. Even Nori already has plans.” He was actually a little hurt, none of the Ri brothers had ever done something like this before and he didn’t understand why they were doing it now. “Do you think that I did something? Offended them somehow?”

Bilbo shook his head immediately. “I don’t think so, they care a lot about you.” He had realized that within a week of starting his job. All three of the brothers cared about Bombur and tried to watch out for him, each in their own way. Dori was the most overt about it, Nori the most subtle. Ori tended to fall somewhere between the two.

“I just don’t know why they don’t want to go,” Bombur said, looking hurt. He honestly didn’t understand why none of them wanted to go. Dori always enjoyed himself, particularly at the wine-tasting stage, so he couldn’t think of a reason why he wouldn’t want to go. “A few weeks ago, he’d said that his schedule was perfectly clear. Today, he said that he and Balin have plans, and that it’s been arranged for weeks, that he absolutely cannot get out of it.”

“I’m sure that there is some sort of reasonable explanation,” Bilbo offered, resting his hand on Bombur’s forearm. “Maybe Balin surprised him and he didn’t want you to feel bad.” That didn’t explain Nori or Ori, however, and Bilbo was curious about what could have happened. He didn’t see why any of the brothers would suddenly be avoiding Bombur.

Bombur didn’t look all that convinced by Bilbo’s reassurance, silently finishing drying the dishes and putting them away. He locked up once he and Bilbo were both finished, kissing Bilbo’s cheek and heading home.

Bilbo watched him go, sighing as he took in Bombur’s dejected posture. Bombur was always so nice, and it was clear that he was close to the brothers. Bilbo looked at his watch, before turning to head to his car. He was having an old friend over for dinner, but he had enough time for a quick stop before going home. Gandalf was always late, and even if he was on time, he would likely understand. Right now, he needed to go speak to the brothers Ri.

* * *

 

Dori was settled at the table, contently sipping his tea. Nori had taken charge of dinner for the night, muttering something about a stew that Dwalin had taught him to make, and Ori was up in his room working on an essay. They would call him down when the stew was done, otherwise their brother was liable to forget to eat, getting so absorbed in his work.

It was a good night, and he was looking forward to the next day when he and Balin would meet on their lunch breaks, so both Dori and Nori were startled when the doorbell rang. “Did you invite Dwalin?” Dori asked, setting down his teacup and standing. He wouldn’t mind having the man there, even if he enjoyed having time alone with his brothers, he couldn’t deny that Nori always seemed happier when Dwalin was around.

But Nori shook his head, seeming puzzled. “Dwalin is supposed to be meeting Balin tonight, doing their weekly meeting. He said he’d call when he was on his way home.” He didn’t know who else would be visiting them this late at night, it wasn’t as though Dori encouraged his neighbors to bother him after a long day at work. He wiped his hands and followed his elder brother to the door, curious to know who it was.

“Bilbo?” Dori said, echoed by Nori. They had told Bilbo their address once, in passing conversation, and none of them had thought anything of it. The man had never visited them before, although Dori had planned to invite him over soon, but they had never gotten around to it. Yet the curly haired man was standing on the porch, the light catching the hints of copper in his hair. “Come in. Is something the matter?”

Bilbo stepped in, shaking his head at the question. “Thank you, and yes, something is. I think.” He wrung his hands together, sighing after a moment. “This may not be my place, but when I was helping Bombur close up the restaurant for the night, he mentioned the conference he is going to in a few weeks.”

“Oh?” Nori asked, withholding a smirk. Apparently their plan had worked, if Bombur was asking Bilbo to go with him already. That had happened much quicker than he had expected, maybe Bombur had decided to make his move after all.

“He thinks that you all are angry with him about something,” Bilbo continued, causing both Dori and Nori to stare at him in shock. “He said that Dori had already agreed weeks ago to go to this conference, but then said that Balin has had these plans for some time as well…he thinks that he did something to offend you, Dori, because you usually enjoy accompanying him.”

Nori groaned, running a hand through his hair. He should’ve thought of that, but he hadn’t even considered it as a possibility. Bombur knew that they considered him family, he hadn’t thought that the man would think that they hated him if Dori turned down going to the conference, something that he actually looked forward to each year.

“Thank you Bilbo,” Dori said, when the silence had gone on for too long. “We’ll settle this, and I can assure you that we don’t hate Bombur.” The plan would have to be cancelled, that was all there was to it. After all, they were trying to help Bombur avoid heartbreak, not cause more of it. “Would you like to join us for dinner?”

“Oh, no, I’m having an old friend over,” Bilbo said, shaking his head and smiling faintly. “I just…wanted to get that cleared up. I know how close you all are, and I didn’t want a misunderstanding to ruin that.”

“Thank you for that,” Dori replied, nodding and watching Bilbo head to his car and drive away, clearly pleased that the unpleasant conversation was over. He closed the door once the other man was out of sight, sighing and turning back to the kitchen. His cold tea was dumped, and he reached into the cupboard for a wineglass.

“Get two,” Nori replied, Dori obligingly taking a second glass down while Nori got out the wine they were going to have with dinner. “I can’t believe he thought that we hated him. That wasn’t the plan! The plan was for him to ask Bilbo, Bilbo would agree, and then the two of them would end up having sex all over their hotel room. Bombur wasn’t supposed to think that we hate him.”

“I know,” Dori replied, sighing as he poured wine in both of their glasses, handing Nori a glass before taking his own. “Still, perhaps we should have expected this. Tomorrow, we can go to the restaurant early and reassure Bombur that we don’t hate him. We will have to tell him about the plan, explain why we all ignored his offers.”

“It was such a good plan,” Nori said, sighing and swirling his wine in his glass before taking a sip. “It would have worked, if it weren’t for the fact that Bombur thinks we blew him off. We’ll have to come up with something new now.”

“But, we’ll have made up with Bombur,” Dori pointed out. “And, we will come up with another plan. After all, Bilbo was so worried about Bombur that he came to talk to us. That is some sort of progress, isn’t it?”

“Fair enough,” Nori acknowledged, and the two brothers finished drinking their wine in silence, mulling over the meeting planned for the next day and how to salvage their plan to get Bombur and Bilbo together.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And another pairing is revealed. There's a bit of texting in this one between Ori and Bifur, Ori's texts are in Italics while Bifur's are in Bold.

Dori and Nori waited until Ori was in class the next day before leaving to talk to Bombur. They had argued about it the night before, about whether it would be better for Ori to know now or to worry about it later when he eventually found out. It had been decided that, for now, it was best for it to be just the two of them. Ori may have gone along with the plan, but it hadn’t been his idea. Bofur, Nori, and Dori had been the ones to do most of the planning, Bifur and Ori had mostly been support rather than anything else.

So, Dori and Nori headed to the restaurant as soon as they knew Bombur would be there, heading in early to work on paperwork as soon as his children were off at school, or in the case of the ones too young for school, daycare. Sometimes Bombur would bring them to work, as he had done for all of the others, but if he was the only one there and he had a lot to do, Bombur left them at the daycare, so he didn’t worry about neglecting them or not getting his work done. It all evened out rather well, if they were honest.

As expected, Bombur was in his office, frowning at the papers on his desk as though he could force them to fill themselves out if he only glared at them enough. Dori’s polite cough was enough to have Bombur break his staring contest, looking up at them. Nori could see confusion, because they were there earlier than normal, as well as hurt that he was clearly trying to hide. Hurt because they had made him think they hated him, just because they wanted to meddle in his relationship with Bilbo.

“We need to talk to you,” Dori said, as one of them needed to say something and it was clear that Nori was still caught up in regretting that they had ever made that plan in the first place. “It’s about the conference. I am free that weekend, I lied to you and told you that I would be busy, as did Nori. Ori genuinely has a trip, but he only agreed to go because we told him to, so that you wouldn’t ask him to go with you to the conference.” It was harder to admit than he had thought it would be, especially as the hurt replaced the confusion on Bombur’s face.

“You love going to that conference, Dori,” Bombur pointed out, voice soft and subdued. It was true, while the conferences were boring to Bombur himself and most others, Dori loved them. He could talk to others who were knowledgeable about wine, try new flavors and debate the merits of different vintages with others who know what he is talking about and didn’t look at him like he spoke a foreign language each time he waxed poetical about wine. He didn’t understand why Dori would lie to get out of it.

“There was a plan,” Nori admitted, and he actually felt sheepish. He’d thought that all of the things he’d done over the years had gotten rid of his ability to feel sheepish, but apparently he was wrong. “To set you and Bilbo up. Bofur and Bifur always watch the kids during the conference, so you wouldn’t have asked either of them. We told Ori to go on that trip and lied about having something else to do, so that you would take Bilbo.” It wasn’t much of a lie, in essence, as they had planned to do what they were saying, but it seemed foolish in hindsight. Lying to a friend for a chance to play matchmaker? When did he turn into such a yenta?

“You made a plan, to convince Bilbo and I to date?” Bombur asked, looking between the two disbelievingly. When he received two sheepish nods, he couldn’t help himself. He burst out laughing, eyes crinkling up at the corners and papers all but forgotten. He noticed the mystified expressions on both Nori and Dori’s faces, but it took him several tries to stop laughing long enough to try to explain. “Amabel and Bilbo’s nephew Frodo beat you to the punch two weeks ago. Amabel asked me to dinner, and Frodo invited Bilbo to the same restaurant. They booked the same table, and conveniently forgot to show up.”

Dori and Nori blinked, clearly startled, before starting to laugh as well. “I never thought I would see the day, my brother outwitted by a pair of children,” Dori said, wiping his eyes once he had calmed down. Granted, Frodo seemed to be the same age as Ori, roughly, but Dori still considered his youngest brother to be a child, thus Frodo was as well.

“Our plan would have worked, if Bilbo hadn’t made us feel guilty and your daughter hadn’t beaten us to the punch,” Nori replied, but he was still grinning. Relief from realizing that things hadn’t been irreparably spoiled between them and amazement that, after all of their plotting, it was a relatively simple plan concocted by a teenager that had gotten Bilbo and Bombur together. Still, if he had to choose someone to lose to, Bombur’s eldest wasn’t a bad choice. At least Amabel wouldn’t rub it in, and she wasn’t in the betting pool. Bofur would have never let him hear the end of it if he’d won.

“Satisfied now?” Bombur asked, smiling. He felt better now, knowing that everything had been worked out, but his smile faltered after a moment. Dori and Nori had confessed their secret, even though it had taken Bilbo apparently guilting them into it. He knew something that both brothers deserved to know, that Ori had been keeping secret from them for some time, and he wouldn’t feel right until he told them. They had been honest with him, it was only right that he returned the favor. He just hoped that Ori and Bifur would forgive him. “I need to tell you something.”

“Oh?” Both brothers looked intrigued, rather than worried or angry, as he knew they likely would be soon. Still, it would be better to do this now, let them vent here away from their brother, away from where their words could do any harm, before letting them loose to do what they would.

* * *

 

Ori was good with technology. It was a fact, one he was fairly proud of, and the reason that he was pursuing the degree that he was. It also had another use, one that he had never admitted to his brothers. His brothers didn’t know that he spoke to Bifur outside of work at all, let alone that they had been dating for a little over a year now. He had deliberately kept it secret, not wanting to deal with the recriminations and the shouting that would likely come once Dori and Nori, especially Dori, found out about them.

But, until that point, technology offered a medium where Bifur didn’t need to speak aloud, where he could type things out and they would be in English, for the most part, rather than his native language that he had reverted to after the accident, one that Ori was slowly and painstakingly learning.

_I think something’s going on with my brothers. Nori was over the house this morning._

**That’s odd?**

_We just had dinner last night. Unless Dori makes him stay the night, Nori usually doesn’t show up two days in a row, since we see each other here almost every day._

**Did he stay?**

_No, Dwalin picked him up after his night out with Balin, passing along a note from Balin for Dori as he did so. There’s no reason why Nori would have been there this morning._

**Visiting?**

_Maybe, but it doesn’t make sense. We’ll all be at the restaurant tonight, and we had dinner together last night. Nori’s not usually that worried about family bonding. He cares, he’s just not fussy._

**He was fussy today?**

_No, but he seemed…anxious. On edge about something._

**Maybe he had a fight with Dwalin.**

_I don’t think so. He always looks so sad when he has a fight with Dwalin, at least when it’s a serious one. And it usually happens at night, when they both get home from work, and then Nori spends the night with us and Dwalin stays with Balin._

**And then Bombur bakes.**

_Yeah, Nori likes giving Dwalin apology biscuits. I don’t know what Dwalin gives Nori though._

**Probably don’t want to know.**

_Fair enough. But I still don’t know why they acted so odd this morning. I wish they would stop trying to shield me from everything. I’m not a child anymore, I can handle bad things when they happen._

**They want to protect you from the bad things. Family does that.**

_I know, it’s just…frustrating sometimes, you know? Dori treats me like a baby sometimes, like I’m still that three year old who needed his help tying my shoes._

**Be patient. If it’s important, they’ll tell you.**

_How’d we get turned around from talking about my brothers and move on to you giving advice?_

**You needed it.**

_I can’t deny that._

**I know. Now hush, focus on your classes.**

_I’ll see you after work today? Dori is going to be with Balin, and Nori should be at his place._

**They’ll need to know sometime.**

_I know, but not right now, okay?_

**Okay.**

_I love you, I’ll see you later._

**Love you too.**

Ori smiled to himself as he put his phone back in his pocket and refocused his attention on the professor. Maybe things would go badly when Dori and Nori found out, but for once he wasn’t going to budge. He loved Bifur, and he believed that the older man loved him too. He wanted his brothers’ approval, but he was slowly starting to realize that it wouldn’t be the end of the world if he didn’t get it. Either Dori and Nori would accept his choices or they wouldn’t.

But, for now, he could put off worrying about that while debating about where he and Bifur should go on their date that night and taking notes in his class.  


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little more Ori/Bifur, as well as Bombur & Dori & Nori. Bifur's texts are in bold, Ori's are in Italics. Nori's texts are bolded & italicized.

By the time that Bombur finished, Dori seemed to be frozen in shock and Nori was on his feet, pacing tight circles behind Dori’s chair. The office really wasn’t big enough to allow for more movement than that, especially not with three of them in it. Bombur had laid out the news as gently as he could, of course, but it hadn’t helped much. Dori was frozen in shock for now, and Bombur worried what would happen when he thawed. Likewise, while Nori was pacing quietly for now, Bombur was worried about what would happen when the man finally spoke.

It was Dori who cracked first, unthawing from his shock and staring at Bombur with bewilderment. “Ori is dating…Bifur? Your cousin Bifur?” He was around the same age as Dori himself was, had at least a decade on Ori, and could barely speak English anymore. “How…I know Ori has a flair for languages, but I wasn’t aware that they could communicate that well yet.” That was the least of his concerns, but it was the easiest one to voice. He was having trouble comprehending it, his baby brother in a relationship with a man a decade older than him.

“Ori has been teaching him to text,” Bombur admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Bifur…he can’t make the words come out how he wants them when he speaks, but when he writes things down, they come out the right way. Ori noticed, and tried texting him. He’s been teaching him about other ways to communicate.” It had been helpful, he couldn’t deny. Even though Bifur rarely bothered to text anyone other than Ori, Bombur knew that he was happy to just be able to. It was one less thing that had changed, one thing he’d gotten back now that the injury hadn’t been able to take.

“And, what? Sometime during their meetings Bifur seduced Ori?” Nori snapped, arms folded tightly over his chest as he paced even more quickly. He knew Bifur wouldn’t do something like that, but he couldn’t help it. He would always see Ori as his innocent baby brother, just as he knew Dori would. They each had their own ways of protecting him, sometimes they meshed well and other times they clashed violently. But neither of them had thought to worry about something like this. Neither of them had thought about Ori dating at all, which was apparently fairly short-sighted of them.

“You know that he would never do that,” Bombur said levelly. He could understand why Dori and Nori were upset, it was a lot to take in, but he wasn’t going to let them demean his cousin, not after everything Bifur had done for him over the years. “Ori apparently instigated it, from what they have both told me. They had several conversations about their relationship before they started to date, and they have been doing well together since it started.” Bifur had been happier, he knew, and it seemed like Ori had been happier too.

“But Bifur!” Dori said, standing and resting his hands on the back of the chair he had been sitting in. “How…I wouldn’t think they would even have enough in common to be friends, let alone…” He couldn’t imagine it, his sweet little brother dating someone. That Ori’s partner was male was, obviously, not an issue. Even the age gap, with time, could be overlooked. At the moment, most of Dori’s shock was stemming from the fact that this relationship had evidently been going on for quite some time and neither he nor Nori had suspected a thing. It was astounding.

“If it had to be anyone, Bifur is a good choice,” Nori conceded grudgingly, flopping into his chair. “He won’t screw Ori over, or force him into anything he’s not ready for.” That was a small mercy, at least. If his brother had to choose anyone older than him to date, Bifur was the best choice. He trusted Bifur, he knew that the man wouldn’t deliberately hurt Ori, nor try to force his brother into anything. That didn’t mean that he could understand it, honestly he wasn’t sure that he ever would be able to, but it did make it slightly better. Just slightly, because he didn’t think there was anything that could make this fully better.

“Why didn’t Ori tell us?” Dori asked, and that was a point that Nori hadn’t thought of. Ori hadn’t even hinted that he was seeing someone, let alone that he was dating someone they knew. He wondered how many of Ori’s late night ‘study sessions’ were actually spent studying with others from his classes, and how many of them were spent with Bifur. Had he expected disapproval? Shouting? Threatening? Demands that he break up with Bifur, or attempts to set him up with someone else?

“I don’t know,” Bombur said honestly, shaking his head. “You would need to ask Ori if you want to know. I just…didn’t feel right keeping it from you anymore.” He had tried several times to convince Ori to tell his brothers, or at least mention that he was dating someone, but the lad had been completely unmoved. He had been adamant that this was for the best, and Bombur had gone along with it mostly because he didn’t feel that it was his business to pry. But, Dori and Nori deserved to know, and he was tired of lying to them.

“We’ll have to do that,” Nori murmured, and Dori nodded. They left Bombur’s office together, Nori already pulling out his phone to text Ori.

**_We have something to talk to you about, so Dori and I are picking you up after your last class._ **

Ori’s reply came within minutes, clearly unsuspecting and pleasantly surprised by the fact that his brothers were picking him up after class.

_Alright, I’ll wait for you near the front entrance once class is finished for the day._

* * *

 

Bifur was spending his day off in his workshop. In reality, it was just a small shed at the back of his house, but it was big enough for him to make his figures, and that was all that mattered. Carving was something he enjoyed, always had, and his father had taught him how when he was just a lad. He was working on a set of matroyshka dolls now, the small wooden bodies already carved and waiting to be painted. He took his time, the brush strokes were delicate and detailed, careful to get it just right. He had only made a set once before, a client he had taken on not long after he had quit mining. Now, he was making a set for Ori, as he thought the other man would enjoy them.

His phone buzzing had him finishing the line he was on and fishing the phone out of his pocket, opening the newest text from Ori. He’d known it would be Ori even before he opened the message, as Ori was the only one who texted him with any regularity. If Bombur or Bofur needed him, they tended to call him rather than text, unless time was of the essence, like the time when Bombur needed him to babysit while he rushed Amabel to the hospital because she’d accidentally cut herself while helping with dinner and needed stitches.

_My brothers are picking me up after school, they said there’s something that they want to talk to me about. Reschedule for tomorrow?_

**Tomorrow is fine.**

They had made plans to see some play that Ori was interested in and that Bifur thought he could tolerate for Ori’s sake. Tonight wasn’t the only night that it was playing, there would be a showing tomorrow that they could go to together, so it wasn’t a problem to him. It gave him more time to work on the dolls, perhaps he would even be able to finish them by the time he saw Ori tomorrow night.

_Fili’s been asking me who my mystery boyfriend is. Dori and Nori still haven’t realized I’m dating anyone._

_Fili thinks that I’m dating one of my professors and won’t admit it._

Bifur chuckled at that. Fili had been trying to figure out who Ori was dating from the moment that he’d realized that Ori was in a relationship. Thus far, the boy had been unsuccessful, but it didn’t stop him from trying. His theories had gotten slightly wilder as time passed, but he had yet to guess the truth.

**I thought he said you were dating a ‘bad boy’.**

_That was last week, apparently. This week, he’s convinced I’m dating a professor and that’s why I haven’t told Dori._

_If I knew Fili could keep his mouth shut, I’d just tell him._

**It would get rid of the theories.**

_He would find something else to pester me about. He and Kili always do, it’s just a matter of time._

**You have odd taste in friends.**

Bifur could picture Ori’s laugh at that, and he smiled faintly as he waited for a reply, which wasn’t long in coming.

_It seems I do. I have to go for now, Dori and Nori will be here soon. I’ll see you later?_

**You will. Enjoy your time with your brothers.**

_If they aren’t arguing, I will. If they are arguing, I’ll just walk home and leave them to bicker in the parking lot of the campus and wait to see how long it takes for them to realize I left._

**I doubt they would pick you up just to argue with each other.**

_True._

**Unless they need a mediator.**

_Oh, shut it you._

Bifur laughed as he set his phone aside once more after sending one last quick text, an ‘I love you’ typed out with more ease than he would have expected when this started. He turned his attention back to the dolls, wanting to get the shade of their hair just right. Ori would love them when he saw them, which was all the incentive that he needed to do his best work.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, Ori's texts are in italics and Bifur's are in bold.

“I still don’t know if I did the right thing,” Bombur admitted. He was sitting at one of the tables in the restaurant, Bilbo sitting across from him and a snack for each of them on the table. He had called Bilbo once Dori and Nori had left, inviting him over. Once Bilbo had arrived, Bombur had explained that everything had been worked out and had a laugh with the smaller man over the fact that their friends had tried to set them up, only to be beaten by Amabel and Frodo. That had only lasted so long however, and Bombur had found himself confessing what he had done. He hadn’t been able to lie to his friends any longer, but it also wasn’t any of his business. He didn’t know whether he’d done the right thing or not.

“Well, they would have found out sometime,” Bilbo pointed out, sighing softly. “Ori likely knew that he wouldn’t be able to keep Bifur from them forever, at least not if he wishes for it to be a permanent arrangement.” Bilbo didn’t know if Ori had planned for it to be permanent or not, but he thought that the boy was fairly serious about Bifur, from what Bombur had said and what he had observed. Honestly, he was surprised that neither Dori nor Nori had figured this out before now, perhaps they had been willfully blind.

“They would have found out eventually, but who knows when that would have been, if it wasn’t for my meddling?” Bombur replied, shaking his head. Although, he wasn’t sure if it should count as meddling, considering that he had only interfered because he had felt guilty for keeping the secret, rather than because he wanted to meddle. Ori could handle his brothers, and Bifur was capable of taking care of himself, but Bombur was still a bit anxious.

“It will be fine, Bombur,” Bilbo reassured, resting his hand over Bombur’s. “You said yourself that Dori and Nori didn’t seem very angry when they left, and that it seemed to be mostly confusion and hurt that Ori hadn’t told them that he was dating anyone. I think that they will talk to him and work this out, and no one will hold this against you.” Certainly not Ori, the boy was one of the least violent people that Bilbo had ever met. He knew that, if push came to shove, the boy could fight, but he seemed to be nonviolent unless there was talk of a fight.

“I know you’re right, but I will still worry.” He couldn’t help it, really. He had been looking out for the brothers since they had first met, and he wasn’t going to stop now. Bombur didn’t want to hurt Ori, he actually approved of the relationship because he had seen how good it was for both Ori and Bifur, but he had also thought  that it was better that Nori and Dori knew. Now they wouldn’t have to hide, and there would be less stress on Ori. Because, although the lad would never say it, he wanted his brothers’ approval more than almost anything else.

“Well, there is nothing we can do to change the outcome,” Bilbo said, starting to gather up their dishes with Bombur’s help. “All we can do is wait, and provide comfort if it is needed.” Whether that would be to Dori and Nori, or Ori and Bifur, he didn’t know, but there truly wasn’t much else that they could do. They would be supportive, whatever the outcome would be, as it was clear that Bombur approved of Ori dating Bifur, but they couldn’t influence Nori and Dori.

“Waiting is always the worst part,” Bombur admitted, and Bilbo could wholeheartedly agree. This was much less nerve-wracking than his last bout of interminable waiting, when his mother had taken ill and they had needed to wait to see if the treatments would help her, but it was still leaving him rather anxious. He didn’t want Ori and Bifur to break up simply because his brothers disapproved, but he could also see why Dori and Nori would want him with someone older. It was no wonder Bombur was worried, Bilbo was less connected to this and he was already rather anxious.

“Come on,” Bombur said, heading to the kitchen with the plates. “Everything’s ready for the day, and we can make Nori a batch of biscuits while we wait for the others.” An apology, from him to Nori this time, rather than from Nori to Dwalin. Also, as there were a fair few steps involved in making the biscuits, they would be sufficiently distracted from their worries for their friends. By the time they were finished with the biscuits, the others would have arrived, and they would have their answers, one way or another.

* * *

 

Ori ran out of the house, heading for the park nearby and blinking quickly to get rid of the tears in his eyes. Tears of anger, that his brothers were still treating him like a child. He didn’t want to think about it, wanted to think about anything else, in all honesty, but he couldn’t help it.

Dori and Nori had looked unusually solemn when they picked him up, but they had refused to answer any of his questions. Then, once they were home, they revealed that they knew about Bifur. Bombur had told them, apparently, feeling guilty for keeping secrets from them, and he had tried to calm them down before they left him. Ori could have told Bombur that it would be a lost cause, but he was at least grateful for the attempt. Then, of course, his brothers had started on their rants.

Why didn’t he tell them? Why Bifur, out of all men? Wouldn’t he be happier with someone his age? Someone with similar interests? Although they hadn’t said it, he could tell what their last point would have been. Someone not as different, someone without Bifur’s difficulties.

It had been about that point that he had fled, not bothering to stop long enough to even pack anything. He had barely remembered to grab his coat. He had his bag from school, with his laptop and cellphone tucked away inside, only because he hadn’t had time to set it down before his brothers had started on him. With shaking fingers, he withdrew the phone and found the number he wanted.

_Can I stay with you for awhile?_

It wasn’t long before he had a reply, not that he’d expected anything different.

**What happened?**

_Dori and Nori know about us. Bombur told them, apparently, but I don’t blame him. He’s the only one who’s been supportive of this so far._

**Dori and Nori object?**

_They said I’m young, and it’s just a passing fancy, and wouldn’t I be happier with someone my own age? And a lot of other rot._

**They want what’s best for you.**

_They treat me like I’m a baby, Bifur. Or like I’m too clueless to make my own decisions. I’m old enough to decide what I want to do with my life, and I don’t need Nori running around behind the scenes threatening my potential boyfriends, or Dori scolding me every time I curse._

**They have a hard time seeing you as an adult, instead of the child they raised.**

_I know, I just…hate that they don’t trust me. You couldn’t force me into anything even if you wanted to, and you would never try. But they keep acting like I’m an innocent victim or something._

**Give them time to calm down. It’s a shock to them.**

_I know. I just…don’t want to go back there right now. So, can I stay with you for a bit?_

**You know you’re always welcome here.**

_Just making sure. I’ll pick up something for us to eat before work, any preferences?_

**Whatever you would like.**

Ori tucked his phone away after that, feeling marginally better. His wallet was in his laptop bag, so he could pick up take out for the two of them to share. They could talk to Nori and Dori more after work, but for now he just wanted to enjoy the time with his boyfriend and try to forget about his brothers’ less than stellar reactions. As much as he loved them and wanted their approval, he was his own person and he wasn’t going to follow their lead forever. He had his own life to live, and he was going to live it on his own terms.

Ori knew that, once they were finished working for the day, he would have to talk to his brothers. He hoped that it would go better than their first talk, but he wasn’t going to change his mind. He loved Bifur, and he knew that Bifur loved him. Their relationship was more than a little unconventional, but it worked for them and that was all that mattered, in his opinion. No one else deserved to criticize it, because it wasn’t their lives.

He knew, even before Bifur had brought it up, that Dori and Nori were only trying to look out for him. They had been doing it all his life, and he knew they weren’t going to stop anytime soon. But, they also needed to realize that he wasn’t a child that needed to be protected, or who they could forbid from doing something. He was an adult now, and he had done more than enough to deserve to have them treat him as such.

But, for now, he wasn’t going to think about that. He would think about how Bifur would likely smell like wood shavings and have some in his hair, because he was likely carving at this time of day. He would think about having Bifur give him another language lesson, or the two of them just eating their food and watching a movie, Bifur taking all of the green stuff that Ori hated and putting it on his own plate while giving Ori most of his meat.

He would think about the good things, and let everything else be resolved later.


	17. Chapter 17

Two weeks passed after the confrontation between the brothers Ri, and things were still tense between them. Ori had spent several nights at Bifur’s, for nothing more than to escape from the tension at the house he stayed in with Dori. Ori had accepted Bombur’s apology fairly easily, as it hadn’t really been fair to ask the man to keep something like that from his friends. Bifur had forgiven Bombur as well, although he was irritated by Nori and Dori. Was having Ori hate them a better option than accepting that they were dating? It made no sense to him.

Today, as it was the day that the restaurant was closed, Dori and Nori were having a conversation about that very thing. They met at Nori and Dwalin’s home, as Dwalin was going out with Balin and they didn’t want to risk Ori coming home and overhearing their conversation. Two weeks of strained silence with their baby brother wasn’t something that either of them wanted, or wanted to repeat, so they decided to try to work something out. They knew that it was either accepting Bifur or risking losing Ori, as it was clear that their brother was more attached than they had previously thought.

“I don’t understand it,” Dori admitted, sitting down with his cup of tea and passing a mug of coffee to Nori. “Ori is so bright, cheerful, shy…I wouldn’t really apply any of that to Bifur. Granted, he is intelligent, but Ori…and he rarely seems cheerful, I know most believe him to be angry much of the time, even though he isn’t, as he looks fierce. He isn’t the person I expected Ori to end up with.” With Nori, he had expected someone like Dwalin, as he had expected that Nori would fall for someone who could give him a run for his money.

“I pictured that you would end up with someone like Balin,” Nori snorted, leaning back in his chair so that the front legs left the floor and he was left balancing on the rear legs. “Predictable, stuffy, boring…” He was mostly teasing about that, but Balin was exactly the type of person that Dori would end up with. He was intelligent, calm, and enjoyed a good cup of tea. Pretty much everything that Dori looked for in a companion, as well as the fact that he didn’t mind Dori’s fussing all that much, usually letting Dori do as he pleased.

Dori rolled his eyes, but sighed. “We’ll need to accept it, or risk losing Ori. He seems to be serious about Bifur, and I don’t want to lose him, not over something like this.” Bifur hadn’t hurt their brother, nor did he plan to. Perhaps it was even better this way, as Bifur knew his mind and he wasn’t liable to decide that he wanted something different, or he wasn’t ready to settle down, or any of the other reasons he had heard for young people breaking apart. Ori might change his mind at some point, depending on how serious he was about Bifur, but that could be dealt with when they got to that point.

“At least it’s someone we know,” Nori added, shaking his head. “Granted, if I would have had to pick anyone we know for Ori to be attached to, I would have gone with Frodo.” Bilbo had brought his nephew to the restaurant a few times, when the bookshop wasn’t as busy or Elrond and Sam were able to manage it on their own for a few minutes. Elrond and Sam had been in once or twice as well, but with how studious Frodo was, even sharing a few classes with Ori, he would have thought they were a good match.

“Mm, but Frodo is interested in Samwise,” Dori replied, sipping his tea. He had noticed when the boys were last together at the restaurant. “And I believe that Samwise is interested in Frodo. I’m not certain if they are together, however.” He had only been able to interact with them briefly, as I had been a busy night and he had been nearly run off his feet helping the servers and ensuring that everything ran smoothly. Still, he wasn’t surprised that Nori had thought Frodo and Ori would be good together.

“They’re together,” Nori said definitely. He had been the one to serve Sam and Frodo, so he was fairly certain that he was right. “But, then again, they were also both talking about a girl named Rosie, so maybe I’m wrong.” But, Sam and Frodo’s love lives weren’t his concern, and he wasn’t worried about them. His last attempt at matchmaking hadn’t gone well, after all, so he wasn’t in any rush to do it again. “I think that we got off topic though. The point is, Bifur isn’t who we expected Ori to love, but we have to accept him.”

“True,” Dori admitted, sighing and setting his cup down. “We’ll have dinner, invite Dwalin and Balin as well. Perhaps even Bombur and Bilbo if you think that they can help smooth things over. We’ll have a calm dinner, explain that we accept Ori’s decision and aren’t going to try to change his mind any longer. And after that, hopefully, Ori will forgive us for treating him like a child.” Although it was a hard habit to break, if he was entirely honest, because he had taken care of Ori since their mother had died when he was born.

“Hopefully,” Nori murmured, before turning the conversation to safer topics. Soon enough, the two siblings were bickering good-naturedly again, and they stayed like that until Dwalin returned and Dori took his leave. They would talk to their respective significant others that night, and corner Ori at the restaurant tomorrow to ensure that their brother would agree to dinner with them. After that, it would simply be a matter of showing Ori that they were serious, and that they would try to accept that he was an adult now and capable of making his own decisions.

* * *

 

_My brothers want to have dinner with us._

Ori could barely believe it, he had snuck out back as soon as he was finished talking to his brothers so that he could text Bifur. He couldn’t believe that his brothers were actually admitting that they were wrong, and that they were going to try to make things work.

**They want to have dinner with both of us?**

_That’s what they said. They said that they were wrong, and that I was an adult and that they would try to remember to let me handle my own decisions._

**And that made them change their mind about us?**

_Apparently. Nori said that they wouldn’t meddle in my relationships again, and Dori said that he would try to fuss over me a little less._

**That must have been a surprise.**

_It was. Dori has fussed as long as I can remember, and Nori’s always threatened every boyfriend that I’ve ever had._

_Granted, I haven’t dated all that much, so he hasn’t had to do that much threatening, but the point remains._

**So, should I be prepared for Nori to threaten me?**

_I don’t know, but you should probably be prepared ahead of time._

_Even if he doesn’t threaten you, an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of the cure._

**I’ll prepare accordingly. What night are we going to dinner with them?**

_I don’t know, they said that we can talk about it more after work today. They’re bringing Dwalin and Balin too._

**So, a triple date?**

_Apparently so, yes. Although since they mentioned inviting Bilbo and Bombur too, so should it be a quadruple date?_

**I think that’s too complicated.**

_Fair enough. So, let’s just say that it’s a group date. I think Bombur and Bilbo are going to be mediators, though._

**That sounds about right.**

**I want to finish my carving before work, so I’ll talk to you after.**

_Alright, talk to you later. Love you._

**Love you too.**

Ori smiled at that, tucking his phone away. He felt better, some of his incredulity wiped away now that he’d had time to process what was happening. It was surprising, admittedly, since his brothers rarely admitted that they were wrong, but it was a good thing. He’d hated fighting with them, and he was glad that they weren’t going to have to continue.

Granted, he knew that they wouldn’t change overnight. Nori would likely still threaten Bifur against breaking his heart, and Dori would likely still fuss about everything, but they would be trying. He had to admit that it was a good idea to have Bombur and Bilbo along on the date, though, so that they could mediate if any of them got into arguments, which he knew would likely occur. They were all going to be trying, but it would take time. All three of them were stubborn, after all, and he knew that Bifur would stand up for him. Dwalin and Balin would do the same for Nori and Dori, so having two people who weren’t emotionally invested in this along on the date was likely for the best.

* * *

 

Bifur smiled as he set down his brush, observing the now finished row of dolls. From the largest to the smallest, there were seven, each with red hair the same shade as Ori’s. He hadn’t been able to resist that small touch, even if the rest of the doll’s features didn’t look much like Ori. On the outfits, however, he had a few flowers that he’d remembered Ori mentioning, as well as the fact that he had painted them so that their small arms all appeared to be holding books.

It had been difficult, especially on the smallest one, but he had managed with effort. And Ori was worth every effort, there was no denying that. Still, all that was left was assembling them, after the paint dried, and then he could give them to Ori. After the time his partner had been having, Bifur thought that presenting the small gift now would be best, rather than waiting. He hadn’t had as much time to work as he’d planned, thus he hadn’t been able to present it before their night out, but he thought that Ori needed it more now.

If only handling his partner’s family was as easy as toy making, Bifur thought, beginning to tidy up his workspace.


	18. Chapter 18

“I’m glad that we decided to sit out that family date,” Bilbo admitted, and Bombur laughed. They had politely refused when Dori had invited them on the group date, and had decided to simply go out for dinner before Bombur went home to his children and Bilbo went to check in on Frodo before going home as well. “It will likely be fairly awkward, after all, and I really don’t want to see that. As much as I am glad that Dori and Nori have come around, and how proud I am that Ori stood up to his brothers, I like our dates as they are.”

“I know what you mean,” Bombur agreed, nodding. It was still relatively new for both of them, and they liked having the opportunity to get to know each other better, outside of their matchmaking friends. Bombur had even been talking about introducing Bilbo to his children soon, something that the two were more interested in than playing mediator for the bickering brothers Ri. “They’ll be able to work things out on their own, I’m sure. Nori and Dori have likely realized that Ori isn’t going to back down, and they’ll make sure to keep from fussing too much about the age difference or anything else.”

“Did it bother you? When they told you?” Bilbo asked, curious. He knew that Bombur had known before either Dori or Nori, and apparently it had been because Ori and Bifur told him rather than him finding out accidentally, but he was still curious about whether or not Bombur had worried at all about the age difference, or even if the romance would affect the business, since they worked together and that could cause tension in the event of a break up. It hadn’t happened, of course, but it still could have been something that Bombur worried about when he’d first found out.

Bombur sighed softly. “When they first told me, I was a little shocked. I knew that they were friends, of course, but I hadn’t realized that it was that serious. Then, of course, I saw Ori kiss Bifur’s cheek, and when I questioned them, they admitted that they were dating. It had been in the early stages then, they had only been together for a few weeks, but it was still evident that they really cared about each other. So, I told them it wasn’t any of my business what they did, they were both old enough to make their own decisions, and that was that. I did ask them to make sure that it didn’t affect their work, which they promised, and they haven’t broken that promise.”

Bilbo nodded, smiling faintly. Bombur had apparently taken it better than Dori and Nori had. Granted, Bifur was his cousin instead of his baby brother, so it was likely a bit easier for him to keep perspective. “Still, once Nori and Dori realize how happy Bifur and Ori are together, I’m sure that they’ll be fine. They might always worry, but they won’t fight with Ori over it, or at least not as much.”

Bombur nodded, letting Bilbo pay for their meal when the waiter brought the check. They traded off on who would pay each time they went out, and as Bombur had paid last week, it was Bilbo’s time to get dinner this time. “Well, as long as they’re all fit to work tomorrow, then I won’t get involved. I don’t really like meddling in my friends’ love lives, even if they don’t have the same regard for mine.” He didn’t like to meddle at all, honestly, even if he did want them all to be happy.

“Yeah, I think I overheard Fili saying that his uncle was planning to stop by tomorrow,” Bilbo said, as they gathered their coats and left a tip. “I’ve never met him, but Fili talks about him like he hung the moon and stars single-handedly. What’s he like? Ori said that he can be intimidating, but he didn’t say much else. No one else would say anything about him.” Thorin had been fairly busy since Bilbo was hired, and although he’d sent Balin to pick up food from Bombur’s restaurant, he hadn’t had time to come in person since Bilbo was hired. Nori’s betting pool was still ongoing, not that either Bilbo or Bombur knew that.

“He…Thorin is a good man,” Bombur started, hesitating as he tried to decide how much to say and what he wanted to say. “The business he runs, it was started by his grandfather. A con-man cheated their family out of it when Thorin was just a teenager, however. Thror, Thorin’s grandfather, worked himself to death trying to get it back, and Thrain still hasn’t recovered. The con-man, Smaug, hired hit men to kill Thorin and his nephews when an attempt was made to retake the business. They were unsuccessful, of course, and Thorin and the boys are still hale and hearty. They managed to win the suit, and thus the business is theirs once more. Thorin lost track of his priorities for a time, pushing the business ahead of everything else, but he’s learned since then. He’s letting Fili work here part time, after all, and before he would have wanted the lad groomed to be his heir. He’s giving Fili a choice now, among other things. Still, he is a good man who only wants what is best for his family.”

Bilbo nodded, mulling that over as they walked out. He kissed Bombur goodbye and agreed that they would see each other tomorrow, but didn’t stop thinking about what had been said, even as he visited Frodo and then drove home. Thorin sounded like a good man, rather proud however, but it seemed that he had learned his lesson about pushing his goals ahead of everything else. Still, the man sounded rather intimidating, and he wasn’t sure how well tomorrow would go if he had to serve Thorin. Still, there was no point in worrying about it now, he would simply have to wait and see how things went.

* * *

 

Thorin walked with Balin out of the conference room after the meeting, loosening his tie and sighing. “We have an hour free, do we not?” he asked, wanting to get out of the building for just a little while. The company was what he had worked for since he was a teenager, but sometimes running it exhausted him more than he cared to admit. Still, it was nearly lunch time, and he thought that they would be able to get out of the building for at least an hour.

“We do. Are we going to go to our usual?” Balin asked, although it wasn’t really a question. Bombur and his family had helped Thorin as much as they could when it came to getting the company back, as had the brothers Ri, and they tended to repay that by visiting often for lunch and spreading the word about the quality of the food. “I already reserved a table at Bombur’s for us, and he said that you need to come in rather than having me bring you food back, or you’ll work yourself to death.”

Thorin chuckled at that, shaking his head. Bombur tended to look out for whoever he thought of as friends or family, so it wasn’t surprising that he was trying to look after Thorin when he thought that the man was neglecting himself. “I wouldn’t dream of disobeying a direct order from the chef, so let’s go.” He wanted to see how Fili was doing as a waiter anyway, and he thought that his nephew wouldn’t be working today. It would be a good time to ask about Fili without risking the lad overhearing him and thinking that Thorin didn’t trust him. He did, quite a lot, but he still worried about him.

Balin and Thorin left the office quickly, walking down the street and into the cozy restaurant. They had made it before the lunch rush, so the place wasn’t very full yet. A bronze haired man was standing at the host’s station, doing the crossword in the paper, although he looked up and smiled when they walked in. “Welcome back Balin, and you must be Thorin. I’ve heard quite a lot about you, so it’s nice to be able to match a face to the name.”

Thorin wasn’t sure how this man knew him, as he was positive that he’d never seen him before. “It seems that I am at a disadvantage, as you clearly know a lot about me and I know nothing about you.” He looked over the man cursorily, shaking his head after a moment. “You seem more like a grocer or a librarian than you do a server.” He had a habit of speaking his mind, something he had always done, but he usually attempted to have more tact in business deals. This wasn’t a business deal, however, and he hated being wrong-footed, so he wasn’t at his best.

“Bilbo Baggins, at your service,” the man replied, ignoring Thorin’s other comments. “I’ll go tell Bombur that you’re here, he’s been waiting for you.” With that, the little man disappeared into the kitchen, and Thorin turned to Balin. “Who is Bilbo Baggins and since when does he work here?” Granted, he had heard that Bombur was interested in hiring someone, he had seen (and laughed at) the ad that Bofur had placed for him, but he hadn’t realized that anyone had answered the ad, and he especially hadn’t known that anyone had been hired. Still, he had been busy lately.

“Bilbo Baggins is the new ‘jack of all trades’,” Balin said, amused. “He answered Bofur’s ad, and that was that. He cooks, and will wait tables or lead people to their tables as needed. He is also Bombur’s partner, but you didn’t hear that from me.” It wasn’t exactly a secret anymore, of course, but he wasn’t sure if they were telling anyone outside of their family or not. Still, with Fili working here, Thorin would have found out eventually, so perhaps he hadn’t done anything that wouldn’t have happened eventually.

Thorin frowned, turning to look toward the door to the kitchen that the man, Bilbo Baggins, had disappeared behind. Apparently, he had missed several things while he was busy with work, but he resolved to test the measure of this man before he was done with his meal today. For Bombur’s benefit, if nothing else.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten chapters left after this one :)

Thorin didn’t have to wait long for the man, Bilbo Baggins, to reappear. During the time that the man was gone, Thorin had pressed Balin for everything that his friend knew about the man. Which, evidently, wasn’t much, leading Thorin to believe that either Balin had been too distracted by Dori to care about observing the new hire, or his old friend was keeping things from him. Still, he knew that the man owned a bookstore, leading Thorin to believe that this wasn’t permanent. Likely simply a stop on his way, raising enough to keep the shop afloat before going back to his life and leaving Bombur alone. With that thought in mind, he scowled at the man when he returned.

Bilbo faltered, unsure why the new man, Thorin apparently, was glaring at him like that. He hadn’t taken that long in the kitchen, although admittedly he had paused long enough to get a kiss from Bombur before he returned. He set the glasses of water on the table, drawing out his notepad. “Can I take your orders?” If nothing else, he could fall back on being professional. Bombur had told him that he could be a little relaxed, as Thorin and Balin were all but family, so he was taking that to heart.

Thorin snorted, shaking his head as he looked at the small man. “What I would like, Mr. Baggins, is for a server who knows what he is doing, and isn’t planning on abandoning Bombur once he has what he needs.” Bombur had done a lot for his family, and he wasn’t going to let this man break his heart by running out once he’d gotten what he’d come for.

Balin groaned, shaking his head. Thorin would usually attempt to keep an open mind, but when it came to family, he was fiercely protective and occasionally made snap judgments, not willing to wait and allow someone to harm them. That was sometimes a good thing, but sometimes, like now, it was a very bad thing.

Bilbo flustered, not entirely sure what he had done wrong or why this man apparently hated him. “E-excuse me? I don’t…I don’t understand.” He barely knew this man, how dare he make snap judgments about him?! It was infuriating, and as the shock wore off, Bilbo was becoming angry. At the moment, he wasn’t going to snap, he didn’t want to chase away Bombur’s friends, but he also wouldn’t allow this man to walk all over him.

“You are only here until your bookshop becomes successful,” Thorin said bluntly. It was a trial by fire, as it were. He would test Bilbo, to see if this man was worthy of being there. He seemed too soft, the type that would turn tail and run as soon as things became difficult. Bombur was a good man, if a bit naïve and trusting, and he wasn’t going to let him be hurt by this man if he did run. “You are using Bombur, abusing his trust and his generosity.” He still felt horribly about when he had insulted Bombur, the first time that he had visited the restaurant. He had been trying to atone for that since he had gotten to know the man better, although he knew that Bombur had long since forgiven him.

Balin, on the other hand, was watching Bilbo, seeing the angry flush rise to his face, the small man drawing himself up to his full height, and he stifled another groan, pulling out his phone and sending a text to Bombur. He couldn’t avert the crisis, not now that Thorin had gone and put his foot in his mouth, but he could help to fix the damages.

“How dare you!” Bilbo snapped, putting his hands on his hips. “You know nothing about why I took this job, nor my personal life. Yes, I do own a bookshop. My parents started it shortly after they married. My nephew Frodo, his dear friend Sam, and my mother’s friend Elrond are currently managing it. I haven’t returned for more than a few moments at a time since my mother died, as it is too painful, reliving the memories. I have no need for money, I come from a wealthy family and have made a few smart investments. I took this job, answered the ad, simply because I needed to get out of my house and stop dwelling on everything that has happened. If you think that, after everything that Bombur and all of the others have done for me since I arrived, that I could use them or purposefully hurt them…then you honestly do not know me at all. Which, I am not surprised at, as you have not visited this shop once since I started working here and you are far from in a position to make an accurate judgment about me.”

There was stunned silence for a few moments, Bilbo glaring at Thorin and Thorin staring at the small man in shock, before a large hand rested on Bilbo’s shoulder. Bombur squeezed his shoulder gently, nodding towards the kitchen. “Go help Bifur, alright? Thorin and Balin always get the same thing on Fridays, so he’s already starting to cook it. I’ll handle this.” Bilbo took a deep breath, getting ahold of his temper, and nodding at his boyfriend before stalking off. If he stayed for one more minute with that arrogant man, he would really lose his temper.

“I…I didn’t know,” Thorin murmured, watching the small man disappear into the kitchen. “I hadn’t…I thought he was…” He was wrong-footed, his assumption about Bilbo having been entirely wrong and turning his entire argument on its head. He hardly knew what to think, what to do now. Without his righteous anger, he was mostly feeling shock and the beginnings of sheepishness, not to mention the first twinges of guilt. Going by Balin’s expression, what had happened to Bilbo’s mother wasn’t common knowledge, and he had just goaded the man into all but shouting it. Thankfully, there weren’t other customers at present, but he had no doubt that anyone else working today had heard him.

“You made an assumption, and you were wrong,” Bombur said softly, drawing Thorin out of his musings. “You did the same thing when you first met me, and I would like to think that we’re friends now. Just because Bilbo doesn’t look like the type of person that you were expecting, that doesn’t mean that you can make an assumption about him. I know that you want to protect your friends and family, Thorin, and you are a good man, and you are a good friend, but sometimes your temper gets in your way.”

“What do you suggest that I do?” Thorin asked. He didn’t know this man, this Bilbo Baggins. He clearly knew nothing about him, as this episode had shown, and he didn’t want to make this worse. He had clearly misjudged Bilbo, and he would need to apologize. He was proud, but he wasn’t that proud. He could admit when he was wrong, regardless of what his sister and brother seemed to think. “I am sorry, Bombur. I should have waited, rather than jumped to conclusions.”

Bombur’s mouth twitched, a smile tilting up the corners of his mouth. “Should I borrow ‘The Phantom Tollbooth’ from my kids again?” he teased. “I doubt you would like swimming back after you jumped to conclusions, after all.” It had started as a joke, his children had been fascinated with the book at that point and he’d made the joke idly. Thorin hadn’t had a clue what he was talking about, so Bombur had brought the book in, letting Thorin borrow it for a few days. The man had actually enjoyed it, and even if it had been a few years since that point, they still sometimes made jokes referring to it.

Thorin smiled faintly, remembering that day. “I thought you were going to make me go to a swimming pool and swim until I’d earned your forgiveness.” He hadn’t known anything about the book at first, so the reference had gone right over his head. “It is better when you understand the jokes being made.” Still, he was relieved that Bombur didn’t seem to hold this incident against him. He would apologize to Bilbo and attempt to make things right, but he was grateful that he wasn’t going to risk losing a good friend over it.

Bombur chuckled, imagining how that scenario would have played out. Perhaps if he was a more vindictive man, he would have done that. But, out of the experience, he had gotten a good friend, so he wasn’t all that concerned. Right now, he just wanted to ensure that Thorin apologized and check that Bilbo hadn’t been too hurt by Thorin’s assumptions. He knew that Bilbo was strong, but something like that did take a toll on you. He headed back to the kitchen, thinking that it was a shame that Thorin and Bilbo had gotten off to such a bad start, since he thought that they would be good friends once they got to know each other better.

Thorin watched Bombur go, leaning back in his seat and sipping his water contemplatively. He didn’t want to ruin Bombur’s relationship, and it was clear that the man was different than what Thorin had first assumed. Bilbo certainly had more of a backbone than Thorin had expected, if nothing else. He would have to think of a way to apologize, and then he would attempt to get to know Bilbo properly. If he was going to be part of Bombur’s life, he would need to get to know him.

Balin, meanwhile, was already texting Dori. He knew that his partner would be very interested in what had happened, and as he was also part of the betting pool, he also texted Nori, informing him that Bilbo had stood up to Thorin rather than running away.

He would have rather done it in person, to be able to see Nori’s face when he realized that he’d placed a bet on the wrong side, but he was more interested in witnessing this apology. Thorin’s apologies were as rare as blood moons, and he wanted to be able to see this.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo meets Bombur's brood. Also, if you've read the awesome story 'Sansukh', you probably recognize the name of one of Bombur's children. Back in November when I wrote this, I asked the inestimable determamfidd for permission to borrow Bomfris and she agreed. I hope that still counts, since I didn't post it until now.
> 
> But honestly, if you like Hobbit/Lord of the Rings fanfiction and somehow haven't read 'Sansukh', you should really check it out.

Thorin did apologize, once Bilbo returned to the main room rather than fuming in the kitchen. The smaller man forgave him more quickly than he’d expected, but Thorin wasn’t the type to look a gift horse in the mouth. He and Bilbo talked for a short time before Thorin needed to get back to work, and they both thought that they might become friends. True, they would never be as close as Bilbo was with Bofur and Ori, or Thorin was with Dwalin, but they would be able to talk to each other when they were at the same place at the same time, and once the awkwardness faded away, they would become more comfortable around each other.

Nori grumbled, of course. He wasn’t accustomed to losing, especially not in the betting pools that he’d created, but he had begrudgingly paid Bofur, Bifur, and Balin what they deserved for winning. Bombur said little about the betting pool, but he’d chuckled when Nori told him what had happened. His only comment had been that perhaps this would teach Nori a lesson about betting on how people would react in any given situation.  Nori couldn’t really protest that one, and he eventually let the subject drop, moving on to his next endeavor.

After his nerve-wracking experience meeting Thorin, Bilbo thought that he was done with anxiety-inducing events for the foreseeable future, but he was wrong. Only a month after the meeting with Thorin, Bombur asked Bilbo to meet his children. They hadn’t even been dating for a full year, but they were dedicated to each other and had no plans to break up anytime soon. Bombur didn’t want there to be a revolving door of people in his children’s lives, meeting someone a few times and then never seeing them again wouldn’t be good for the kids, but he didn’t think that Bilbo would be like that. What they had, despite the short time they had been together, felt permanent.

Bilbo had taken a little persuasion, of course, but once he’d agreed, he was glad that he did. Meeting all of the jolly red-heads, playing with the youngest and talking with the elder children…it was more fun than he’d had in a long time, he wouldn’t deny that. Relaxing in his armchair that night, safely home once more after kissing his partner goodnight, Bilbo thought back over the events of the day and the children he’d met.

Tiny little Breccan, two years old and full of insatiable curiosity. There was always a smile on his face, dimples showing in his chubby cheeks, and his babble was full of questions, for his father or ‘Mistah Bibo’, whoever would be able to answer first. He was constantly on the move, always toddling after his siblings, and Bilbo noticed that a fair few times, the elder children would pick him up and carry him with them, so he wouldn’t be left out of whatever they were doing. The exception was if they were doing something important, like homework, or were doing something he wasn’t allowed to, like using the stove.

Caia was eight years old, fiery red hair pulled back in two braided pigtails. When Bilbo had entered her room, she was in the middle of building a castle out of blocks, and he’d been roped into joining her. Then, they knocked it down and he helped her to build a stable for her toy horses, complete with a pasture for them to graze and a training area. She seemed content with her toys, although as soon as Bombur had joined them in the room, she’d immediately clung to him, chattering happily about building with Bilbo. She was clearly a daddy’s girl, not that he was surprised.

The twins were next on his journey through the house, popping unexpectedly out of doors on opposite sides of the hall and laughing when they realized that they’d scared him. Calix and Fergus, twelve years old as of the previous month, had just started living apart, as before their twelfth birthday they had shared a room. They had come to Bombur, however, and requested the change, so he had cleaned out the storage room and set up the room across the hall from the room they shared, so that Calix and Fergus would have their space, but still be near each other. Calix seemed to enjoy computers, talking a mile a minute about programming and other things that Bilbo didn’t understand, but had tried to listen to nonetheless. Fergus seemed more interested in building, the birdhouse in their backyard was elaborate and made with the twelve year old’s careful planning and occasional help from Bofur and Bifur.

Bomfris was next, although he didn’t have long to talk to the sixteen year old. She was going to meet her friend, Thorin (named after Thorin Durin, not that Bilbo had believed it at first, but apparently the lad’s father, Dain, was related to Thorin) and after they finished the day’s homework, they would be heading to the archery range. Bilbo was surprised to hear that anyone still practiced archery, he had thought that it had died out long ago, but he supposed that if fencing endured, it wasn’t surprising if archery did as well. Bomfris was good, he’d gathered, and she usually practiced with Fili’s brother Kili and Amabel’s friend Legolas, who was apparently the son of Thranduil, who owned the restaurant where he and Bombur had their first date.

All of that trivia had his head spinning, but if he’d been able to keep the names of his countless cousins, aunts, uncles, and sundry other relations straight, Bombur’s family and their friends didn’t pose much of a challenge. Bilbo did ask if Bomfris and Thorin were an item, but Bombur had only shrugged. He tried to talk to her about it, but she was keeping things close to the vest at present. If Bilbo had to guess, it was fairly new and she didn’t want to talk about it for risk that she would jinx it. That was certainly how he had felt in the early days of his relationship with Bombur, and he wasn’t surprised if it was the case with Bomfris and Thorin. Bombur did say that the lad was called Stonehelm, a nickname from when he was a child, so at least he now had a way to distinguish the two Thorin’s in his mind.

Amabel was the last, sitting in her room and painstakingly practicing her guitar. It had been the only thing she had asked for for her birthday, so Bombur had found a good acoustic guitar and a book to teach her. She worked at it little by little, making sure to practice at least an hour every day, managing to fit in more on the days that she didn’t have homework or chores. The eighteen year old seemed to be fairly dedicated to her practice, something Bilbo wholeheartedly approved of. Bilbo had met her a few times before, she was the one who dropped by the restaurant the most, and she had already apologized to him for matchmaking. Frodo had likewise apologized to Bombur, and both of them had been forgiven. Legolas was in the room with Amabel, along with another lad who he learned was named Gimli. Bilbo had heard about the boy before, from one of their regular customers named Gloin. He was part of Bombur’s unofficial family, Bilbo had discovered, and worked for Thorin’s company as an accountant. He also would boast about his wife and son whenever possible, so Bilbo had felt that he knew Gimli long before he’d met the lad in person.

The three teenagers had left after awhile as well, as Legolas was going to get in more archery practice as well, wanting to make a small competition with Kili, Bomfris, and his friend Tauriel, and Amabel and Gimli were going along for something to do as well as providing moral support. Bilbo noticed that neither of them said precisely who they were providing moral support for, and he chuckled at that.

All in all, Bombur’s family was delightful, and he looked forward to the next time he could spend time with them. He had already resolved to bring Frodo, and perhaps Samwise if the lad wasn’t busy, with him. Amabel was a few years younger than they were, and the others were younger still, but Bilbo was sure that they would get along well. Frodo and Amabel had already hit it off, at least as far as plotting was concerned, and he was sure that they would be able to find something else to talk about, especially if Legolas, Gimli and the rest of their friends were visiting.

He envied Bombur his full house, slightly. His house seemed so still and silent by comparison, as Bombur’s house literally burst with life. Of course there seemed to be arguments, over sharing bathrooms or who was watching what and when in the living room, but he would take all of that over the tomb that his house had seemed like months ago. It no longer seemed like a tomb, but his footsteps still echoed uncomfortably loudly as he walked through, counting rooms and telling himself that he was being ridiculous.

Even if he did have enough bedrooms for all of Bombur’s children, as well as a few extra bathrooms so there would be less worry about sharing. It would still be necessary, but there wouldn’t be six children fighting over one bathroom anymore. And the kitchen, he knew that Bombur would love his kitchen. The kitchen at the Broadbeam house was small and cramped, one could barely turn around from the counter without hitting into the stove. The kitchen at Bilbo’s house, by comparison, was large and airy, windows letting in sunlight and fresh air on the warmer days, or providing a picturesque scene of the garden covered with snow in the winter. Bombur would love it, Bilbo had no doubt about that.

Bilbo shook his head, putting out the fire in the fireplace before heading up to bed. It was insanity, it hadn’t even been a year since he and Bombur had started to date and he was already imagining moving in with the man. Or rather, having his partner and children move into his house. It was perfect for a large family, it was what it had been built for, before his mother had learned that it wasn’t safe for her to have more than one child.

Still, regardless of how insane it was, Bilbo couldn’t completely banish the idea from his mind.


	21. Chapter 21

“I liked him,” Caia said, focusing on her block building. Once school was over for the day, Amabel and Bomfris had taken them to the restaurant to see their dad and Caia could tell him about the winter program at the school before bringing them all back home. They’d picked up Breccan from day care on their way home, and the toddler was finishing his afternoon nap in his bedroom. Caia, Calix, and Fergus had finished their homework and been sent off to play while their elder siblings turned their attention to their own homework. Of course, that had dissolved into the three talking about their dad’s new boyfriend more than playing in record time.

“He seemed okay,” Fergus allowed, flipping his pencil around to scrub the eraser against the sheet of paper he’d been using to try to sketch out his new idea. He knew that his uncles would help him build it, but he needed to get the idea down on paper first. “He said my birdhouse was nice.” Fergus was extremely proud of the birdhouse, as it was the first project he’d ever made mostly by himself, and it was nice that Bilbo took the time to recognize how much work it had been.

“And he listened when I talked about computers, even if he didn’t understand,” Calix added. He was lounging next to his twin, lazily throwing a ball into the air and catching it. “And he said he knows someone who knows a lot about them, and that he’d talk to them about me.” That was nice, he always liked learning more about computers. He thought that it would be his job one day, fixing computers and writing programs, he thought that it would be a good one. “And Dad really likes him, I saw them kissing when Bilbo left.”

At a loss for what to have the children call him, Bilbo had just told them to call him by his first name. He wasn’t bothered by it, and Bombur had agreed that it was fine, so the kids had taken to it easily enough. He and Bombur had tried to restrain themselves around the kids, but they’d shared a few kisses now and then, chaste presses of the lips between meeting children, playing games, having dinner, and leaving for the night. They had thought that the kids had been too occupied to worry about spying, but it was clear that they’d been wrong on that count.

“Dad hasn’t kissed anyone since Mom left,” Fergus said softly, twirling his pencil around in his hands. It still hurt, especially when the school did things for Mother’s Day, or had other parent themed events and his dad was the only one there. It would always hurt, probably, but his dad had done everything he could to help them. It was a little odd, since the only person that he’d ever seen his dad with was his mom, but his dad had looked happy and Bilbo was really nice, so he didn’t mind it as much as he’d thought he would.

“Do you think Dad’s gonna marry him?” Caia asked, looking over at her brothers with wide eyes. She hadn’t thought of that at first, but married people kissed. Her mom and dad had kissed all the time, and they were married. Her dad had kissed Bilbo too, did that mean that they would get married? She’d never been to a wedding before, all she knew was that people wore fancy clothes, kissed, and said I do before going to have cake and smush it on each other’s’ faces. While it sounded like fun, she didn’t know if her dad was getting married or not.

“Nah, not now anyway,” Calix said, shaking his head and giving her a reassuring smile before going back to tossing the ball in the air. “We just met Bilbo, and Dad said that they hadn’t been dating all that long. People date for a long time before they get married, Mom told me that. And then they kiss and live together and sometimes have kids or just lots of pets or just each other.” That was pretty much all that was safe to tell his sister, although he didn’t know all that much more than that.

“Oh,” Caia said, nodding and going back to her blocks. “Well, if Bilbo does move in, where would he sleep? There’s no room.” She wondered if they could still get a pet, even though there were already lots of kids. A dog would be nice, but their dad said there just wasn’t enough of a yard for a dog. There was barely enough yard for them, he took them to the park a lot when they wanted to run around and play outside.

“He’ll sleep in Dad’s room, obviously,” Fergus said, he and Calix rolling their eyes in unison. “And that won’t happen for ages, so it doesn’t matter.” Caia was set to argue, she hated when her brothers treated her like a baby, but at that moment the front door opened, their father’s jolly voice booming through as he took off his shoes, and her pique was forgotten as she ran to see her father, Calix and Fergus not far behind her. Arguing about whether Bilbo was going to marry their dad and move in could wait until later. Right now, she wanted to talk more about the program at school. That was more important than a wedding.

* * *

 

As more time passed, Bombur and Bilbo got closer. He enjoyed spending time with the man’s children as well, all of them finding something or the other that they had in common with Bilbo, or wanted to do with him. He cheered when Bomfris won first in the archery competition, Tauriel coming in second and Legolas and Kili tying in third place, grinning at the good natured teasing he had seen between Tauriel and Kili once the match was over. The red-head clearly had a fairly sharp wit and wasn’t afraid to use it on Kili when the time was right.

He’d gone to Caia’s winter program, clapping when she’d done her solo, knowing how long she’d been practicing that song and beaming with nearly as much pride as Bombur was by the time she was finished. He’d stood with the parents and guardians in the gym to clap for her, smiling when she’d blushed at the praise. The girl was adorable, and she’d earned the praise with how hard she’d worked on the solo. He’d helped from time to time, his mother had been a fairly good singer and would often sing while she was doing chores. Bilbo had gotten into the habit himself, before she’d died, and since meeting Bombur and the rest, he’d picked up the habit again.

All in all, Bilbo felt at home with Bombur’s family, blood or otherwise, and he thought that the children liked him fairly well. That had been a relief, in all honesty, since he knew that the kids were important to Bombur and he wouldn’t have wanted to lose one of the best relationships he’d ever had by making a bad impression. Thankfully, all the kids seemed to be fairly open-minded about their relationship and didn’t seem to feel like he was taking their father away from them, so he’d relaxed.

As time passed, however, it got harder and harder to keep from thinking about inviting Bombur to move in with him. The kids would love his house, he knew, especially the yard, and there was enough room for all of them. It wasn’t something he felt comfortable bringing up right away, however, as he didn’t want to risk pushing Bombur into something he wasn’t ready for, or moving too fast. He’d never been the best at judging the speed at which relationships were supposed to move, after all. But, as their one year anniversary loomed, Bilbo thought that it was time. Perhaps it was a little fast, but they already knew something of the best and the worst of each other. Bilbo had stayed over a fair few times, and Bombur had even stayed at Bilbo’s once or twice, having Bofur and Bifur babysit the kids. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good, and although he was scared of rocking the boat, he thought it was the right time.

* * *

 

It took time, even after Bilbo had broached the subject, for them to come to an agreement. They decided to bring it up with the kids and, if they agreed, to start moving a few days after their one year anniversary. Bombur had admitted that it did make sense, even though he’d been surprised when Bilbo had brought it up, and he’d agreed that the kids would love the house. He’d made sure that Bilbo didn’t feel like it was something he was obligated to do, or that it was too fast for them, but once he’d been reassured, he’d agreed that it would be for the best.

And, he would be lying if he’d said that he’d never considered living with Bilbo. Lazy mornings, before the kids woke up and they needed to get them off to school and head to work. Cooking in Bilbo’s large kitchen, the two of them working side by side while the kids either helped or got ready to go. Sitting out in the garden, watching the kids play and enjoying just sitting in the sunlight with Bilbo, perhaps with a snack for them both and maybe stealing kisses when the kids weren’t looking. Sitting on the same bench in the moonlight, watching the stars and simply talking softly to each other about anything and everything.

Now, that would be coming true, provided his kids agreed and Bilbo didn’t change his mind. But, the man had faced the insanity so far, and had even made Thorin revise his opinion of him. Bombur thought that if anyone was up to the challenge, it was Bilbo Baggins.


	22. Chapter 22

The soft notes of the guitar came from the small yard behind the house, so that’s where Bilbo headed. Bombur was taking the kids to Bilbo’s house, but Amabel had asked to stay behind for a few minutes and after some hesitation, Bombur agreed. A whispered conversation with Bilbo was enough for him to trust that she would be in good hands, and he could focus on getting the other kids settled in their new home. Bilbo wished that he had his partner’s confidence, but he wasn’t going to let him, or Amabel, down, so he followed the music to the small yard at the back of the house, seeing the girl, young woman really, sitting on one of the swings from the ancient swing set. Bofur already had plans to build a new one, as the old one had gotten too unstable over the years, but it seemed to be holding up fine for now.

Bilbo didn’t say anything at first, simply watching the girl sitting on the swing, moving occasionally but mostly just sitting there and playing the guitar. She knew he was there, he could tell, but she didn’t seem to acknowledge his presence in any way, so Bilbo was at a loss. Briefly, he mourned that Bombur was needed by the younger children right now.

“My parents bought this house because of me,” Amabel said, after a few minutes. It startled Bilbo, as she hadn’t spoken since he’d stepped into the garden, and he almost thought that she hadn’t realized that he was there.

“What do you mean?” Bilbo asked, curious. He didn’t know much about when Bombur and his wife had bought the house, just that they’d been living there since Amabel was a child, so he wasn’t entirely sure where the girl was going with this.

“When my parents married, they lived in a little apartment, not far from where Uncle Bofur and Uncle Bifur lived,” Amabel said, shrugging. “They didn’t have good jobs yet, Dad had just gotten out of school, after all. When my mother got pregnant with me, they decided that they needed to find somewhere else. There was only one bedroom in the apartment, after all, and it was a really small place, although the rent was cheap. They wanted to move because I’d need a room eventually, of course, but also because they didn’t want their kids to grow up without a yard to play in.” She looked around the yard she was sitting in, shaking her head after a minute. “They found this place, and it needed a lot of work. There was a lot that needed fixed, and there were other places in their price range that didn’t need work, or at least needed less work. But, none of those other places had a yard. They could have kept looking, of course. Something better was bound to turn up, but my mother was determined that they would find a place before I was born, and that they’d be living here when I was born.”

“How do you know all of that?” Bilbo asked, surprised. Bombur hadn’t told him any of that, but it could have been just because the man didn’t think it was relevant. He was curious about how Amabel knew all of that, however. It had all happened before she was born, and he doubted that it was something that had just been brought up in casual conversation. He was interested in the information, there was no doubt about that, and he didn’t mind listening to Amabel if that’s what she needed, but he was still confused.

“My mother told me, when she first got sick,” Amabel admitted. “She told me a lot of family stories. I think…she knew she wouldn’t make it, and she wanted to talk about that stuff, remember it. But…this was our home, we’ve lived here all my life. Our tiny yard and crowded bathrooms, shouting when someone was playing their music too loud because the walls are paper thin and we could all hear it…it’s our home, and I honestly don’t mind moving in with you Bilbo, really, it’s just…there are so many memories here. I just wanted a few minutes to say goodbye, you know?”

And Bilbo did know, or at least he could understand. He hadn’t left his childhood home, he was in the process of inviting even more people into it, really. But, he could understand needing to say goodbye. Change was inevitable, and sometimes even when you accepted it, you still needed time to mourn. But, he did still have a question for the girl. “Does your dad know?” Because he didn’t want to keep something like this from Bombur, and he wasn’t sure what he’d do if Amabel asked him to keep this a secret from him.

But she just chuckled, shaking her head. “Yeah, he knows. I just couldn’t talk about it with him. I don’t like bringing up my mother with him, although I always love when he’ll talk about her.” She didn’t want to risk bringing up bad memories, and sending him back to the way he’d been after the funeral. She knew that Bilbo talked to her dad about her mother, and that he talked about his own loss, but she was still a little wary of ever bringing the topic up with her father. And, really, whether Bilbo came out or she’d been left alone for a few minutes, she would have been fine. She just needed to sit and remember all of the good times they’d had in this house.

“Your dad isn’t selling the house, you know,” Bilbo offered, even though he was sure that she did know that. Bofur had bought the house from Bombur and would be moving in soon, wanting a change of pace from his current apartment. If Bilbo was honest, he’d been surprised that Bofur hadn’t moved sooner, as the man was almost constantly complaining about the apartment. The heating, his neighbors, his landlord, the stairs…everything and anything, really.

Amabel chuckled. “I know. And Uncle Bofur will let us visit whenever we want, unless he’s working on our Christmas presents, then we’ll have to keep away.” That had been a precedent for as long as she could remember. When her uncles were working on their presents, anything that was too big to hide easily, at any rate, they hadn’t been allowed to visit. As a child, she hadn’t realized it, as there was always an excuse. They weren’t particularly good excuses, but they sounded logical enough when she was a child. When she’d got older, she’d obviously stopped believing in the excuses and had sussed out the real reason.

Bilbo smiled at that. “Yes, well, even if you don’t believe in Santa bringing presents, there’s no reason that your presents shouldn’t be a surprise.” He’d always loved this time of the year, the decorations, the music, the giving and receiving of gifts…it had always been his favorite holiday. His mother had loved Christmas, and perhaps that was why he had always loved it. She’d always loved giving gifts, seeing the recipients eyes light up, or whipping up fantastic holiday feasts for their friends and family, singing along to the radio set deliberately to the music of the season all the while.

“Dad said that you go and volunteer at the shelter on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day,” Amabel said hesitantly. Her father had only said that, clearly not wanting to share more than that as he didn’t know what Bilbo would feel comfortable with him telling her. “Would you mind…if I went with you? Dad goes when he can, he cooks and donates food and clothes a lot, but with the restaurant and us, he doesn’t always have the time.” Although he did try his best to go every few weeks.

Bilbo nodded, debating how much to say. “My mother always took me on those two days. She’d visit any other days during the year when she had the time, of course, but she always made sure that she’d go on Christmas Eve and Day. When she got ill, she actually made me go in her stead, as she couldn’t leave her bed but she didn’t want to break with tradition.” She’d been stubborn, and even though he hadn’t wanted to leave her, he’d still gone. It had only been a few hours, and she’d still been fine, for her given value of ‘fine’ at that point, when he’d gotten back. This would be the first time since her death that he’d gone, his second time visiting alone.

“Would you mind if I came too?” Amabel asked, looking up at Bilbo. She could tell that it meant a lot to him, and she didn’t want to intrude on something that had clearly been important and special to him for years, but she also knew that sometimes it was nice to not need to be alone when dealing with memories, especially when they were painful. Her dad would go with him if Bilbo asked, she knew, but she didn’t think that Bilbo had asked.

Bilbo considered that, the dread that he’d felt about having to go alone, his mother’s tradition barely straggling on, before he smiled faintly at Amabel. “I would like that,” he murmured. “Quite a lot. But, I think your father will come looking for us if we don’t get back soon.” Changing the subject was for the best, he didn’t want to dig into the messy emotional problem with an eighteen year old girl, after all, and she evidently seemed to agree as she got up from the swing and followed him to his car.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was good, and Bilbo thought that he was a little closer to Amabel now. Maybe that’s why Bombur had sent him to find her, knowing that they could help each other. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to thank his lover for that or scold him. He’d decide once they were home.


	23. Chapter 23

Caia was dancing. That likely shouldn’t have surprised Bilbo, he’d gotten to know the girl well in the months that had passed since the family had moved in with him, and he knew that she enjoyed dancing along to music, or trying to copy the type of dancing done by characters in her favorite movies. But, this dancing had very little to do with music, although he was sure that Amabel was in her room practicing as it was that time of day, nor did it have anything to do with a movie, as he doubted that the tv was even on right now.

Instead, it was because Bombur and he had agreed to get a pet for Caia for her birthday. It was something they had talked about for a long time, but the girl would be nine and she was fairly responsible. The twins, Bomfris, and Amabel had already agreed that they would help if she started to slack in her duties in taking care of the pet, and Bilbo knew that he and Bombur could handle picking up the slack as well. A cat, most likely, as Caia loved cats and it would be easier with their schedules. Frodo had already agreed to take the cat to work with him if they needed him to, as Sam had a gift with all kinds of animals.

Caia was the last person they told, as they wanted to make sure that they would be able to properly take care of a cat before telling her that she would be getting one. A lot of her other birthday presents would be cat related, things that it would need, but they doubted that she would mind. They’d also decided against merely choosing a cat and bringing it home, as they wanted her to choose the pet, from a shelter as there were already far too may cats in shelters that needed good homes.

Now that they had arranged everything, however, and it was a week before Caia’s birthday, they had decided to tell her, which had led to a shriek in a pitch that Bilbo hadn’t know the small girl could reach as well as dancing around the table. She was talking a mile a minute, animated as ever on a topic that she liked although she tended to be quiet otherwise, thanking them and already talking about what kind of cat she would want.

“Why don’t you go ask Amabel to borrow that book she has on cat breeds, you might be able to get a good idea of what kind of cat you would want,” Bombur offered, when the girl paused for breath, and she barely took the time to hug them once more before she was off like a shot. Bombur laughed at that, shaking his head. “We can go up and talk to her about it in a little bit, once she’s got something in mind. She’ll have her mind made up in no time, you know that.”

“Why does Amabel have a book of cat breeds?” Bilbo asked curiously. He didn’t doubt that Bombur was right, even with the short time that he’d known Caia, he’d seen that she was always thorough about anything she was interested in. It seemed to be easier to get to know Caia, Fergus, and Calix than it was to get to know Bomfris and Amabel, especially since the two seemed to be busy with their hobbies and school work fairly frequently, especially Amabel as she was graduating that year, but he’d gotten to know them as well. Amabel had never mentioned liking cats, however.

“When Amabel was Caia’s age, she was obsessed with animals,” Bombur replied, shrugging. “Bifur got her a lot of books, dog breeds, cat breeds, wild cats, different bird species…she read them cover to cover a fair few times before she found something new to interest her, but she kept the books and the animals that Bofur made her. She passed the animals on to Caia when she was old enough to play with them, you’ve probably seen Caia playing with them, but Amabel kept the books even after that. I don’t know if she unpacked them yet or not, though.”

Bilbo chuckled. “Well, at least Caia will like her birthday present, although I have little idea what to do about Christmas, it isn’t far away.” He loved giving presents, just like his mother had, especially seeing others’ reactions to the gifts he was giving. He also loved cooking and having his family and friends around him for the holidays, and rather than spending his first Christmas since his mother died alone, he was spending it surrounded by family and friends, as they planned to invite a few of their friends to spend the holidays with them, and he was truly grateful for that.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Bombur replied, shaking his head. Still, he was glad that he could make his daughter happy on her birthday, getting her a present that she truly wanted. His parents hadn’t been able to afford much, so their birthday presents were usually practical things, a new shirt or two, or a pair of shoes. While they had been much appreciated, and he still gave his children clothes for Christmas, he made sure that there was something fun as well. They would only be this young for so long, after all, and he wanted them to enjoy it.

Bilbo agreed with the sentiment, and the two went back to making dinner while they waited for Caia to come back down and tell them all that she had learned.

* * *

 

“So, your uncle invited his partner and his kids to live with him?” Sam asked. Despite the interest in his tone, Sam didn’t lift his eyes from his careful examination of the table. He was determined to finish what they had started, even if Frodo had already admitted defeat a good ten or more minutes ago. That was one of the things he liked about Sam, his determination.

It had been Frodo’s idea to buy the puzzle. It was over five hundred pieces, which wouldn’t be too difficult for them, as they’d put together larger puzzles. The problem was that it was also 3D, a globe with all of the countries on it. Frodo had been instantly eager to try building it, but Sam had been more cautious. They still had a 3D model of the Titanic, the Empire State Building, and the Eifel Tower sitting in their spare room that Frodo had bought at one time or another, enchanted, and then had gotten frustrated and packed them away when he couldn’t put them together as easily as he’d expected.

So, really, this had likely been Sam’s expected outcome from the start, Frodo mused. He would finish the puzzle even now that Frodo himself had gotten irritated enough to quit, simply because he didn’t like leaving a job half done. He realized that Sam had still been speaking to him and he’d accidentally tuned his friend out, lost in his musings about the puzzles and his friend. “I’m sorry, Sam, I was thinking. What did you ask me?”

Sam chuckled, well used to Frodo getting lost in thought and tuning out the world around him. He’d been that way since they were children. He decided only to repeat his second question, the one Frodo had evidently missed, rather than repeating both. “I asked if they’d gotten settled in alright. I know moving can be a pain, remember how long it took to get everything sorted when we moved in here, and we didn’t have all that far to move!” And he’d had a lot less stuff to bring with him than Frodo had, but it had still been chaos at first.

Frodo groaned. “Don’t remind me, Sam. I swear, you did all of your cooking from that one little pan for about a week straight, until we’d unpacked everything and found the cooking supplies.” And for some reason, that had been the last box to be found, as though it was hiding just to be inconvenient and only revealed itself because there was no choice. “But yeah, they’re all settled in. With everybody helping out, it didn’t take long for them to get set up. Learning to live together might have taken a bit longer, but Uncle Bilbo seems much happier now than he was before.”

“I noticed that too,” Sam agreed, finally looking away from the half-finished puzzle and towards Frodo. Bilbo had always seemed lost in that large house, lonely and desperate for companionship. Frodo visited as often as he could, of course, but having a family living with him full time would likely help even more. He’d met Bombur and his family a few times, and he thought that they were just what Bilbo needed, and vice versa. At least now the man would have less time spent alone and brooding, which was for the best. “Are you going to your uncle’s for Christmas this year again?”

“Of course, it’s a tradition,” Frodo said, nodding. It would be odd, having so many extra people there, but it would be interesting. “You’re invited to come along, Sam, as always.” Sam had always had a standing invitation to visit Bilbo and Frodo, even during the holidays. Bilbo liked the young man and thought that he was a good match for Frodo. They’d known each other since they were children, and thus knew the best and worst of each other.

Sam shook his head though. “I’m going home, my sisters and brothers are coming and bringing their kids, and you know my parents like us to all be together during the holidays.” During the rest of the year, they were all free to go their separate ways, but during the holidays, they were all expected to come home. Sam visited throughout the year when he could, of course, but Christmas was one time of year when he was guaranteed to see all of his brothers and sisters and their children. “But I’ll be over on Boxing Day, like always, and Mum’s looking forward to seeing you on the twenty-third.”

Frodo smiled. It was an odd system they’d worked out, but it was an effective one. “I’m looking forward to seeing her too. And you know Uncle Bilbo’s looking forward to seeing you again.” It would be nice, mixing their old traditions with the new ones that the Broadbeams would bring with them. But, before that happened, there was a puzzle to build, so with a sigh, he went back to helping Sam with the puzzle again.

He was never going to buy another 3D puzzle. Or, at least, he would never let Sam find out if he did.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A day in the life of the Broadbeams & Bilbo

Since the Broadbeams had moved in with him, Bilbo found that his days had lost the monotony that they had in the past, and ee no longer rattled around the empty house like a wayward ghost. Instead the rooms were all bursting with life and laughter, children running and parents scolding. He loved it, he reveled in it, and he thought that if his mother were alive to see this, she would be pleased with what had happened. She had always wanted a large family, and Bombur and the children would have done that. The children would have been unofficially adopted as her grandchildren before they had time to even blink.

Each morning, Bilbo still woke with the aid of his alarm. On the opposite side of the bed, Bombur’s alarm would be going off as well, and the two would usually exchange sleepy smiles before getting up to turn off their alarms. It was better to have both alarms set, in case one of them forgot to charge their phone (Bilbo) or accidently unplugged their alarm clock (Bombur), or they simply slept through the first alarm (both of them, especially after the kids had come down with the flu). The alarms were five minutes apart, so that they were usually guaranteed to be up on time.

Bilbo would go to the bathroom and shower while Bombur went to tend to Breccan, who was invariably up and needing his pull up changed, to use the bathroom, and wanted to sleepily cling to whoever was getting him ready for the day. The boy was never fully awake first thing in the morning, it took him time to shake off the lingering sleepiness and become as animated as he usually was. Bombur usually handled Breccan, simply because he didn’t have as much time in the evenings and usually missed putting his son to bed, something he regretted.

Once Breccan was tended to, Bombur headed to make sure that Amabel and Bomfris were up, although they both had their alarms. Usually, they were awake and in the middle of getting ready, but he checked anyway, making sure that everything was fine and spending a minute or two talking to them. Again, he didn’t get to spend as much time with the eldest two, or any of his children, as he wanted to, but he did his best and they all accepted it. Sometimes, one or both girls would have fallen back asleep after turning off their alarm, and he’d wake them up if that was the case.

While Bombur was tending to the eldest two, Bilbo got dressed after his shower and then went to check on the twins. The boys were usually only just waking up when he peeked in on them, because they didn’t have to leave for school until a few minutes after their eldest siblings as they were younger and went to a different school. The boys would grumble, as neither of them were morning people, but Fergus would get up and get ready with fairly little hassle. Calix usually needed a bit more prodding, but then he too would be up and start getting ready for school.

Bombur went to start breakfast, with Breccan still clinging to him, once he’d finished talking to Amabel and Bomfris while Bilbo would go and make sure Caia was up. This chore, the two would often swap, as both of them were good cooks. They changed off every other day, during the week and the weekends, and whoever wasn’t making breakfast during the week was charged with getting Caia up. It was usually fairly simple, especially if Bombur was the one waking her up as it was clear she was a daddy’s girl, and eventually all  six children would be up and there would be the noise of five sets of footsteps all but running down the stairs, a sixth pair following behind more sedately.

Breakfast was usually on the table by the time the children arrived in the kitchen, and if it wasn’t then the elder kids would usually chip in to help get it finished. The twins ate with all the enthusiasm of two growing boys, and Bombur had remarked upon their hollow legs lately, assuming that they were due for another growth spurt soon. Amabel usually had tea with her breakfast, and she chose certain blends depending on her mood, or if she would need the extra energy for that day. Bomfris drank coffee, with milk and sugar, and the two girls would usually have books or papers out to study while they ate if they had tests that day. Caia would eat all of her breakfast before drinking her milk, usually ending up with an adorable milk mustache in the process that one of the adults would wipe away. Breccan ate anything that was put on his tray, drinking his juice out of his sippy cup and talking to whoever was nearest in-between bites.

Once breakfast was over, all of the kids helped clean up, dishes going into the dishwasher as none of them had the time to wash dishes in the morning. Leftovers were put into the fridge to be reheated for a snack if it was feasible, or scraps were thrown in the garbage. It never took long to clean up from breakfast with all of them helping. Even Caia would help out, using the dish rag to wipe the table clean before returning the rag to the sink.

Then, it was time for the carpool. Bilbo and Bombur both had cars, and both were big enough to fit all of the children. If it was an especially busy day, or one when Amabel or Bomfris had an activity after school, one of them would drive all of the others to school, save for Breccan. Otherwise, Bombur and Bilbo alternated days for the car pool, usually whoever hadn’t cooked would be the driver. The other would take Breccan to day care, or to the restaurant if Bombur thought it would be fine for him to play there until opening. The kids’ schools and Breccan’s day care had all been informed of Bilbo, he’d been added to their paperwork so that if something happened and they couldn’t reach Bombur for whatever reason, they could call Bilbo. He could also pick them up for any appointments or drop them off from the same. It made Bilbo beam with pride, he never minded helping out and he was glad that there hadn’t been any problems with the school for him doing this. The woman who was usually working when Bilbo dropped Breccan off in the mornings had called him adorable once, and had laughed when he blushed.

Then, once the kids were in school or day care, or playing in the restaurant, Bilbo and Bombur would start working. They would prep as much as they could in the kitchen before going to the office, Bilbo helping Bombur with all of the paperwork that came from owning your own business. Bilbo had a good head for finances and numbers, something his father had excelled in as well, so Bombur had accepted his help readily, although Balin would still come in from time to time to check over the books.

Bilbo would usually be the one picking up the kids from school, as Bombur would be swamped in the kitchen, unless Amabel had driven them that day. He would go and pick them all up, taking them back to the restaurant so they could see Bombur when he had a few minutes to step away. Bilbo would take over Bombur’s duties temporarily while he listened to how the children’s days had gone, and then Amabel would drive them home. Occasionally, if the restaurant was having a slow day, Bilbo would be able to go home with them, but usually he stayed the restaurant.

Amabel would usually supervise the others doing their homework, helped by Bomfris, and the two would help their siblings out as necessary. They’d keep an eye on Breccan sometimes too, other times he would stay at the restaurant if they were able to keep him entertained and keep an eye on him. Bombur didn’t want Breccan to miss out on the opportunities that his siblings had had at the restaurant just because things were different now. The kids would all work together at the kitchen table, light streaming through the windows and giving the room a homey glow, making it a pleasant place to work in.

When Bombur and Bilbo would get home from the restaurant, they would start making dinner. Sometimes they would bring food home from the restaurant for dinner, but most of the time they would cook. Sometimes the kids would help, getting a cooking lesson in the process, but they always tried to eat together as a family. The kids would wash the dinner dishes by hand, they all had chore sheets that dictated who did which chores which days, and they usually got through it with the minimum of griping.

Once dinner was eaten and cleaned up after, the kids were free to do what they wanted, provided they’d finished their homework. Sometimes they would all gather in the living room, each working on a different project but content to be together. Other times they would go off in their own rooms, and Bilbo and Bombur would be left alone. On Fridays they would have game night, taking turns each week as to whose turn it was to choose the board game. Bilbo enjoyed the friendly competition and bantering back and forth, and not only between the kids. He and Bombur were involved as well, which made it more fun for all involved.

Bath time came next, Breccan going first. Bombur would bathe the boy and Bilbo would get him dressed for bed. Caia would go next, and all Bombur and Bilbo had to do was remind her to wash thoroughly before leaving her to it. The twins usually went, one at a time, after Caia, Calix first as he usually was more impatient and then Fergus. Amabel and Bomfris would take their turns once all of their siblings were done, preferring to go last (or next to last, depending) so that they could take their time.

Bombur would tuck in Breccan and Caia, reading a story to the former. He would read to Caia as well if she requested it, which she usually did. Bilbo would check in on Fergus and Calix, ensuring that they had brushed their teeth and were going to bed on time. They would check in on Amabel and Bomfris  as well, each taking one of the girls, before going to their bedroom. Bombur would finally be able to get his shower, and sometimes Bilbo would join him if they weren’t too tired.

Regardless of what had happened during the day, Bilbo would end up smiling more often than not as he thought back over it, pleased and grateful beyond words that this was his life now. Sometimes it was a little chaotic, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.


	25. Chapter 25

Bombur was in the kitchen at the house, baking cookies for the bake sale that Caia’s school was having, when Nori found him. Caia was having a sleepover with a friend from school, Fergus was with Bofur learning more about carving, Calix was with the computer programmer friend of Bilbo’s, Bomfris and Amabel were out with their friends, and Breccan was taking a nap. Bilbo was at the bookshop, as it was time for him to go over the books again, and Bombur was taking advantage of the fact that he had the day off and time to himself to fulfill his promise to his daughter.

It was also, Nori acknowledge, a way for Bombur to think, as he always seemed to think better when he was cooking or baking. “So, what problem are you trying to solve now?” he asked. The place had been drowning in baked goods when Bombur and Alice had been trying to find a way to afford to move, when Alice had been pregnant with their first. Nori snagged a cookie off of the table, ignoring Bombur’s half-protest, and hopping up on the counter. “Lay it on me, what’s wrong this time? Did you and Bilbo have a fight? Did Amabel and Bomfris decide to pierce something or get a tattoo? Or did the twins do that thing where they switch classes again just to mess with people?” That was one of his personal favorites, although Nori denied ever giving the twins that idea.

“No, and if Fergus and Calix ever do that again, I’m sending you to deal with the principal,” Bombur threatened, not fooled by Nori’s innocent face. “My anniversary with Bilbo is coming up, and I still have no idea what to get him.” He’d been considering it since they moved in together, but nothing he’d come up with seemed to fit Bilbo. It seemed too cliché, or just something that Bilbo wouldn’t be interested in.

“Well, the first anniversary is paper,” Nori pointed out. Bombur rolled his eyes and Nori shrugged. “Well, I was just throwing that out there. Get him a nice card and the paper anniversary will be taken care of.” He knew that Bombur wouldn’t do that, Bilbo meant too much to him, but it had been worth a shot. “If you don’t like any of my suggestions, you’ll just have to come up with something on your own. What does he like? I know he likes books and all that…”

“He does enjoy reading, but whenever he wants a new book, or a rare volume, he buys it for himself,” Bombur admitted, sighing and leaning against the counter. “He enjoys writing as well, and I considered getting him a new fountain pen and ink, as he enjoys practicing calligraphy, but everything he has is in good condition or has sentimental value and can’t be replaced. He likes to play chess, he’s even teaching the kids. Fergus is picking it up pretty quickly, actually. He’s been talking about joining the chess club at his school.”

Nori nodded, considering that. He watched Bombur go back to his baking before heading to the sitting room, finding the chess board relatively easily. It was nothing special, he could find a dozen like it in a store, and given the state of the box, it had been bought in a store. He wasn’t sure if there were any special memories associated with it, but he could always ask. He grabbed the box and headed back to the kitchen, holding it up once he got Bombur’s attention. “What about a new chessboard? Because I mean, this one’s a joke. Plastic pieces, cheap board…you could give him a better one.”

Bombur considered that. If Bilbo wanted to keep that one he could, but getting him a new one would likely be a good idea. Bilbo enjoyed playing chess, after all. But, trading in one store-bought chessboard for another one wouldn’t be that special…Bombur smiled after a moment, looking up at Nori. “I’m going to make him a chessboard, and pieces.” Bifur had taught him how to carve when he’d taught Bofur, and although he didn’t have the talent for it that his brother did, Bombur thought that he would be able to make a chessboard and pieces for Bilbo.

“That’s…a good idea,” Nori said, nodding and stealing a bit of batter, yelping when Bombur smacked his hand with a spoon. “Watch it with that. And that’s a good idea. I think that Baggins will like it. Bet he’ll cry, he seems like the type to do that.” There wasn’t anything wrong with that, but it would still be a bit amusing. Still, Baggins would like the gift, he had no doubt, and Bombur could stop stress baking. At least Caia’s school would have more than enough desserts to sell.

“No more betting pools on my personal life,” Bombur said, pointing the spoon at Nori. He ignored his friend’s near petulant expression, finishing the last of the desserts he was making and starting to pack up the others. After he’d finished here, he was going to go talk to Bifur. He had a present to make.

* * *

 

“I don’t know what to do,” Bilbo groaned, leaning back in his seat. He had finished going over everything at the bookshop about ten minutes previously, and had spent the time since then turning his mind in circles over a very important topic. What to get Bombur for their anniversary?

What did you get for the man who had everything he wanted and wanted nothing else? It was impossible to predict what Bombur would want to read, his tastes in books were vast and sometimes contradictory, and anything cooking related was taken care of as soon as it was needed. Besides, buying a chef cooking supplies seemed rather cheap, like he was taking the easy way out, and he didn’t want to do that. He loved Bombur and wanted to get him something that he would love as well. He was just having trouble figuring out what that was.

“Well, the first anniversary is paper, you could get him a book,” Elrond said, amused. The other man was seated across from Bilbo, as he’d been talking to Bilbo while they’d went over everything that Bilbo had missed since he’d last checked in. Now, he was radiating amusement over Bilbo’s dramatics. “Or you could write him something, you have always had a way with words, and a delicate hand.” His calligraphy was better than most, a true thing of beauty, and he doubted that Bombur would be unduly disappointed if that was what he received.

“Anybody can write a poem, if they try,” Bilbo said, shaking his head. “I want to do something special, something that no one else could do for Bombur.” Which eliminated the cooking supplies, which had never really been an option that Bilbo had considered. “I want it to be meaningful, and show how much I care for him. A poem could do that, but…I don’t know. I want to do something more.” He just didn’t know what, and Elrond’s amusement wasn’t helping. He was actually almost irritated enough to kick the other man out, when Frodo popped his head in the door.

“What about a scrapbook?” Frodo asked. He’d overheard most of the conversation, it wasn’t like they had been especially quiet as there weren’t any customers at present. “Do you remember, Uncle Bilbo, when I made you that scrapbook when I was a kid?” Elrond had helped him, as had Belladonna, as he’d wanted to give his uncle a Christmas present but hadn’t had any money. “You loved it, Uncle, and I think that Bombur would too. It would be thoughtful, and it would satisfy Elrond’s paper fetish.” Elrond snorted at the last point, but he couldn’t deny that Frodo was right about the scrapbook. It would be something meaningful, something not many others would have thought of.

Bilbo looked at them both, smiling after a moment. “That’s actually a great idea.” Now, he just needed to decide how far this scrapbook would go. Maybe start when Bombur was a baby, and add pictures of key points in his life, culminating now with their family. He could come up with some excuse for having a family picture taken without rousing Bombur’s suspicions, he knew, so that wasn’t very concerning at the moment. “It would be something different.”

“I’ll pretend that you didn’t say ‘actually’,” Frodo teased, chuckling and going back to the counter when he heard the bell ding, signifying that they had a customer. He had no doubt that Bilbo would have the whole thing planned out before he left, it was just the kind of man that Bilbo was. He thought that Bombur would appreciate it more than anything Bilbo could have bought him. It would be something personal, meaningful, and something that showed how much Bilbo cared about him. That would mean more than a new set of pots and pans, or whatever else Bilbo had planned to get him.

“Your nephew managed to solve your dilemma in a matter of minutes,” Elrond couldn’t resist pointing out, chuckling at the stuck out tongue he received from Bilbo. “Just trust your instincts, Bilbo, and you will be fine.” He stood and headed back to the front of the store to make sure that everything was running smoothly, not that he doubted it. Still, Bilbo needed peace to think, and Elrond knew that he would have more than enough time to tease Bilbo later. They were good friends, and every now and then he couldn’t resist teasing Bilbo.

Bilbo, for his part, was feverishly working, making a list of everyone he thought could help him get the pictures and what he planned to include. He’d also need to buy a scrapbook and the paper for inside it, maybe stickers or something of the sort to make the pictures pop, but he could figure that out when he got to the craft store. Now that he had a plan, Bilbo wasn’t wasting a minute.


	26. Chapter 26

Bombur had Bifur go with him to pick out the wood for the chessboard and pieces, since he knew that his cousin knew more about carving and the best types of wood to use. They chose a lovely dark ebony for the one set of pieces, a nice maple for the other side, and then another type of maple, black with brown stripes throughout for the black spaces on the board and a lovely birch for the white spaces. For the entire time that they were in the store, as well as the time they were in the car to the store and on the way home, Bifur was quietly amused.

Bifur knew that Bombur could carve a chessboard and pieces in the time they had, even if they wouldn’t be as extravagant as something Bofur could manage, but he thought it was rather sweet that Bombur was going to the effort of using a skill that he hadn’t seriously practiced since he’d opened. Bombur had enjoyed learning how to carve with Bofur, of course, but that had always had more to do with being able to spend time with them and helping them make things for the toy store than any desire to be a woodcarver.  He hoped that Bilbo would appreciate this.

Bombur, for his part, had spent most of the drive and their time in the store flushed, embarrassed by his cousin’s teasing, and pleased by the occasional compliments. He knew that he was an okay carver, not at Bifur or Bofur’s level but still good, but hearing that his cousin thought that he was a good carver and that he thought that it was a good idea for an anniversary gift flustered and pleased him. His family’s opinions had always been important to him, after all.

Once Bombur had dropped Bifur back off at home, and thanked him for helping with the wood as he’d have been fairly lost otherwise, he went into his house and started sorting through. He’d waited until his next day off to do this, and so everyone else was busy. Even Breccan was with Bilbo, who was once again at the bookshop. Bombur set aside the wood that he was going to use for the chessboard and focused on what he was going to be using for the pieces. This would be the most difficult part, in his opinion. Choosing what the pieces were going to be.

He could go with the standard forms for the pieces, of course, but he wanted to do something different. Bilbo was special, and he should have something fairly unique as his present. So, making the board wasn’t enough, he needed to make something interesting and different. He considered making the pieces the characters from Bilbo’s favorite books and movies, the horse from Black Beauty and the boy from Treasure Island for examples, but that seemed a little much. Bilbo had many favorite books and movies, there wouldn’t be enough pieces for him to do all of them justice, so that was out.

After another few minutes of thought, Bombur grinned and reached for his sketch paper. Bilbo loved to read everything and anything, but he’d always seemed to be fond of fairy tales. Knights and elves and dwarves and the like. He could make the pieces look like the various types of creatures from the tales, it would be different enough without stretching his talents too far. He was fairly sure that he could manage to carve wizards and dwarves and whatever else he thought of in the amount of time he had, so he started sketching it out. Bifur had always told them to try to get the idea down on paper first, so it would be easier to build or carve later on.

The castles would be dragons, Bombur decided. Dragons liked gold and capturing princesses, at least in most of Bilbo’s books, so he thought that it was a good idea. The knights would be men riding horses, with long horsetails drifting down from the top of their helm to make them different from normal knights. Next were the bishops, and he decided to make them elves. One was a graceful elf sitting on a throne with a wine goblet in hand, while the other had a bow with an arrow drawn. That way, he had one of each of the types of elf that Bilbo seemed to like, so he moved onto the next pieces. The king, he decided, would be a dwarf, and for kicks he decided to make it look like Thorin. No one could ever claim that Thorin wasn’t kingly, and he thought that Bilbo would be amused by it. Then, he decided that the pawns could be dwarves as well, and he would model them after the kids, Frodo, and himself. Bilbo, he decided afterwards, would be a character out of one of the kids’ books, a short little thing with pointed ears and large feet. He couldn’t recall the name at the moment, but it seemed to fit Bilbo.

With all of the sketches made, and he was very pleased by the way they’d turned out, he picked up the first piece of wood to start carving. He had thirty-two pieces to make, after all, as well as the board, and only so long to carve before his family got back. There was a lot to do, admittedly, but he was looking forward to seeing Bilbo’s face when he gave it to him.

* * *

 

Across town, Bilbo was settled in the small office off of the bookshop that he used when he was there. Now, it was packed with Caia, Fergus, Calix, Bomfris, Amabel, and Bofur. Bifur arrived late and wouldn’t say where he’d been, but Bilbo had bigger concerns than pressing for details. He just assumed the man had been with Ori, as he didn’t know that Bombur had involved compatriots in his scheme as well. Bilbo needed Bombur’s family, as they would be the ones who had the pictures he needed. Once they found out what he was doing, they were all for it.

Looking at the pile of pictures on his desk, he would admit that he was a bit overwhelmed. “I don’t know where to start,” Bilbo admitted, looking between the pile of pictures and the people crammed into his office. If he listened, he could hear Frodo and Sam talking to Breccan, as his nephew had been pressed into service as a babysitter for the afternoon. “I think starting with pictures of Bombur as a baby, or a child, would be a good place?”

Bofur plucked a picture out of the pile and held it out to Bilbo. It was one Bifur had brought, passed to him when Bombur and Bofur’s parents had died. A chubby, red-headed baby was being held by a small, dark haired boy who was wearing a hat that swamped him, covering half of his face. Despite that, the beaming smile on both children’s faces were evident. “That was when Bombur was only a few weeks old, Da let me hold him and wear his hat. I was always taking it, I wanted a hat like that.” When he’d gotten older, he’d gotten his wish, and he still wore it to this day.

Bifur picked another picture out and handed it to Bofur, making a few short signs that caused Bofur to nod. “He said this was taken when Bombur was two.” In the picture, the chubby, smiling baby had turned into a chubby, smiling toddler, hair still a brilliant red. “It dulled a bit as he got older, but when he was a baby, you could see it from space,” Bofur offered. The toddler was sitting beside an older version of the dark-haired child from before, two braids in his hair in place of the odd hat. A smiling, ginger woman was holding the toddler on her lap, and the dark-haired child was standing in front of a man who looked to be his exact copy. “Bom always took after our ma, I look more like our da.” Bilbo could see that, and he added that picture to the first one. Those would be good for showing the young Bombur, he thought, and they could add more later once they worked on other sections of the scrapbook. He wanted to have a full example of Bombur’s life thus far, and it would be added to as the years passed.

Amabel went next, holding up one of the pictures she’d brought. It was a picture of her parents on their wedding day, Bombur in a dark tux and his brown-haired bride resplendent in a simple cream dress. “That’s their wedding day, obviously. And I was right about there,” she added, laughing as she put her fingertip on her mother’s stomach. “They didn’t find out until after the wedding that Mom was pregnant with me at the time.” It was a copy, of course, all of the pictures they were giving to Bilbo were, the originals safely tucked away.

“She was beautiful,” Bilbo offered, because it was true. She might not be a conventional beauty, but she was smiling and evidently besotted with the man beside her, and that added to her attractiveness. He thought it was right to add Alice to the book, she was an important part of Bombur’s life, of the kids’ lives, and he wouldn’t try to replace her or erase the time that they’d had. He honestly wished that he could meet her, and he knew that Bombur said the same about his mother.

The next picture was volunteered by Bomfris, and Amabel laughed when she saw it. There was a toddler, evidently Amabel, giving the baby that she was helping to hold, presumably Bomfris, an unimpressed look. “I didn’t want a little sister, apparently,” she teased, garnering an eye roll and stuck out tongue from Bomfris. There were a selection of other pictures of the sort after that, the kids’ first interactions with each other, and Bilbo added each to his album. The kids were as important to Bombur as Frodo was to him, so Bilbo was going to have each of those in the album.

There were more after that, the small group conferring on the various photos before Bilbo made his final selection. They only had so long to work, after all, Bombur would be expecting them back soon. Bilbo couldn’t wait to see the look on Bombur’s face when he saw the scrapbook.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a bit late today, I had a few errands to run and it took longer than expected. I know, it stops at a bad spot, but that's how I had to trim it otherwise it'd be too long.

Amabel slid into her usual seat in the café where she and Frodo met, smiling apologetically at the man across from her. “Apparently I’m the one who’s late this time,” she said, chuckling. Usually, during the few times they’d needed to talk since that first meeting when they’d tried their hand at matchmaking, Amabel was usually the one who was there first. She’d get their table, order something for both of them, and sit and wait. Frodo would usually come in a few minutes late, pay her for his half of their food and drinks, and then they would get down to business. “I had to drop the twins off at their friends’ house, apparently they’re doing some sort of group project and needed to get together to work on it.”

“It’s fine,” Frodo said, shaking his head. He’d been late for several of their meetings and Amabel had never said a thing, he wasn’t going to turn into a hypocrite and criticize her for doing the same, especially not when she had a good excuse. “So, you wanted to meet to talk about Bombur and Uncle Bilbo’s anniversary dinner?” He wasn’t going to match-make anymore, he’d promised, but he was curious about what was going on.

“I asked my dad if it was alright before I brought it up,” Amabel replied, shrugging. “But my siblings and I pooled our resources and we’re going to pay for their anniversary dinner. I wanted to know if you’d want in.” It had taken a lot of convincing for both Bilbo and Bombur to agree to this, but they had finally relented. In place of an anniversary present, they were going to choose the restaurant and pay for the dinner. She already had a place in mind, and her siblings had agreed that it was a good idea, but she’d thought it would be nice to let Frodo in on it.

“That’s…honestly, that’s a good idea,” Frodo admitted, shaking his head. “I didn’t think of that. I’ve been trying to think of what would make a good anniversary present for them, but I’ve been coming up blank.” This, though, would ensure that they got a nice dinner together and didn’t have to worry about anything except enjoying their time together. “I could cover half, and you and your siblings could cover the other half? Where do you think they’ll go, or do you already have somewhere in mind?”

Amabel chuckled. “I talked to Thranduil, and he reserved them a seat in his restaurant. I thought it would be fitting, the place they had their first date. He also promised to hold the receipt until they leave, so that I can come and pay.” He’d agreed readily, in all honesty, and said it was a nice thought. His son and his partner’s children had done something of the sort for them, only they had paid for a hotel room. He hadn’t divulged that to Amabel, of course, but she’d still chuckled at the flush on his face when he’d thought about it.

“I’ll go with you then, and we can pay for their meal while they’re relaxing at home,” Frodo said, nodding. It sounded like a good idea, and with less chance of going wrong as they’d already had permission. It wasn’t matchmaking this time, it was an anniversary present. “Where will you all be while they’re at home?” Because he doubted that they would plan a dinner for their father and Bilbo and not make a plan to be somewhere else so the two men could have the house to themselves for the night.

“Bomfris and I will be staying with Dain’s family,” Amabel said, shrugging. “The twins are going to stay at one of their friends’ houses. Caia has a birthday party to go to that day anyway, and since it’s a slumber party, she’s taken care of. Uncle Bofur is going to watch Breccan.” Dain had said that he could come with them, but Bofur had volunteered to watch him and they had worked things out. Really, Amabel was going to wind up feeling like a third wheel, since Bomfris and Dain’s son Thorin were interested in each other, but it wouldn’t be that bad. If she got bored, she could always go out and help Dain take care of the pigs.

“Sounds like you’re all sorted,” Frodo replied, mildly amused. She was apparently good at thorough planning, at least when it came to taking care of her family. He wondered if her siblings had helped, then decided that it was probable. They had been involved in the decision to pay for the anniversary dinner, after all, so it wasn’t likely that she’d decided where they were going to stay without their consent. “And you’re sure that they won’t mind about this?”

“Positive, I double-checked before I left today,” Amabel promised. She’d agreed to not try to match-make again, and she was going to keep to that. She’d leave the matchmaking to other people, there wasn’t anyone whose love lives she cared about now that her father and Bilbo were finally together. Although, if either Thorin or Bomfris didn’t make a move soon, she’d be tempted. Her sister could be oblivious sometimes, and it seemed like Thorin was the same. Still, they had time, and right now her biggest problem was wondering if her dad and Bilbo would change their minds between now and their anniversary.

* * *

 

Bilbo finished the final touches to the scrapbook on their anniversary. It was cutting it close, he knew, but it had taken longer than he’d expected to get it perfect. And it had to be perfect, he’d decided. Elrond chided that he was a perfectionist, but Bilbo ignored him. There was nothing wrong with wanting everything to go right on his anniversary, and Elrond could just keep his opinions to himself. Elrond forgot that Bilbo had seen the complete mess that he was when he decided to ask his wife on a date, back when she’d simply been another patron of the bookshop that he favored. Belladonna had been the one to nudge them together, and the rest, as they say, was history.

But, amused commentary from friends aside, Bilbo thought that things were going well. He was touched by the fact that all of the kids, and Frodo was included in that label, had pooled their resources to pay for their anniversary dinner, and had blushed when he’d been informed that they would have the house to themselves. It wasn’t like this would be the first time they’d done anything, but having Amabel or Frodo or any of the kids knowing what they would end up doing…it was fairly embarrassing.

Bilbo carefully settled the scrapbook in a gift box he’d recently bought, tissue paper going over the cover, and he thought the final effect was perfect. A small card, just with his name and Bombur’s written on it in his best handwriting, and that was as good as it was going to get. A glance at the clock showed that he had just enough time to go home and get dressed before Bombur would be arriving so they could leave for their dinner. Smiling, Bilbo picked up the gift box and left his bookshop, thinking that if his mother were here to see this, she would approve wholeheartedly.

* * *

 

Bombur had decided to do the finishing touches for Bilbo’s chessboard and pieces at Bifur’s house. There was too much chance of Bilbo discovering it if he left it at their house, his partner was very inquisitive and would ferret out any secrets that he wanted to, once he put his mind to it. And, although Bilbo wouldn’t purposefully ruin his anniversary surprise, Bilbo was a very curious man and sometimes couldn’t resist when there was a puzzle to be solved.

It had taken him a bit of thought before he’d figured out what to do for the presentation. Wrapping all of the individual pieces seemed like a bit much, and making Bilbo ferret around in a bag for all of the pieces wouldn’t be that good either. He decided a gift box, one that would be able to double as the box to keep the game in, and he’d planned to go shopping for one. Then Bifur had presented him with a hand carved box, separate slots for the different pieces and room for the board as well. Bombur had hugged him and had ignored his cousin’s teasing comments. After a gift like that, Bifur could make all the jokes he wanted.

It had taken him up to the day of their anniversary to finish everything, the pieces taking him longer than he’d thought they would. Still, everything was made, packed away in their box, and then the box had been wrapped. He’d botched the job once, nervous about their upcoming date and Bilbo’s reaction to the gift, but eventually he had wrapped it and set it aside, ready to be taken with him back to the house.

Bombur had brought the outfit that he’d planned to wear to Bifur’s with him, getting his cousin’s permission to get ready here. He and Bilbo had decided to do it like this, like it was their first date or something of the sort. Their first date hadn’t been their choice, not at first at any rate, and although they had other dates since then, they had decided to treat this like the first date they hadn’t really had. It had amused all of their family and friends, of course, but it meant a lot to them.

 


	28. Chapter 28

“It was nice of the kids to pay for our dinner,” Bilbo said, smiling as they walked back to their car. Dinner had been wonderful, the food had been as good as the last time they had been to Thranduil’s restaurant, and they had never lacked for topics of conversation. Their conversation had meandered through different recipes, places they had eaten, and things that had happened during the past week that they hadn’t had time to discuss. Things about work, their friends, their family, or just experiences that they’d had that they had been too busy to talk about. They had lingered slightly over dessert before finally leaving, after Thranduil refused to give them the bill.

“Does Frodo know that he is labeled as a child?” Bombur asked, amused. He didn’t mind, Frodo seemed like part of the family by now, it was almost as though he had seven kids now, eight if he included Samwise, which he often did since the lad was with Frodo most of the time when he visited. “But you’re right, it was nice. Like our first date, but without the initial awkwardness.” Which made it better, in his opinion, but he still had good memories of that night, since it was what led to this.

“He should, he is only a few years older than Amabel, so it isn’t that much of a leap,” Bilbo replied, shrugging. Frodo felt like his son most days, sometimes Samwise did too as he was usually with Frodo when he visited now, so it wasn’t surprising that when he said ‘the kids’, Frodo and Samwise were usually implied. “And it was better without the awkwardness, I think. At least I know that you were there because you were interested in me, rather than because your eldest and my nephew set us up.”

“It was better this way, admittedly, but I have fond memories of our first date,” Bombur replied, chuckling. It had been awkward initially, but it had led to this, so he would take it. “Still, I can think of better things to do than linger in the parking lot.” Many things, but most of those would need to wait until later. Right now, he was looking forward to seeing Bilbo’s reaction to his anniversary gift, which was waiting at home on the kitchen table. He hadn’t been able to find a better spot for it before it was time to leave, but Bilbo hadn’t gone to the kitchen so it was good enough. He hadn’t seen any sign of his gift, so either Bilbo was better at hiding things or he simply hadn’t gotten him anything.

“Probably, let’s go home,” Bilbo said, leading the way to their car. Bombur had driven on the way there, but it was getting dark so he would drive on the way home. Bombur didn’t like driving at night, so Bilbo didn’t mind doing it. He didn’t like driving in the snow, and Bombur had helped him with that, so he didn’t mind. It was one reason why they usually went places together if it was dark or snowing, the other being that they had a lot of the same friends and were thus invited to the same parties. “I have something for you.”

So, Bilbo was simply better at hiding things than he was, Bombur decided, smiling when Bilbo glanced over at him. “I have something for you too, and I’m grateful that you didn’t go into the kitchen before we left, otherwise it wouldn’t have remained a surprise this long.” And, maybe Bilbo would think that he had just cooked or baked something, instead of leaving the present in the kitchen because he had come through the back door with very little time to spare.

“I can’t wait to see it, then,” Bilbo said, smiling. And he was looking forward to seeing Bombur’s reaction to his gift as well. It would be well worth the time and effort spent on it. And worth the time it had taken him to find an inventive hiding place, since he wasn’t sure where the best place to hide it from Bombur would be, eventually settling on stuffing it under a couch cushion because he’d run out of time and he’d heard Bombur come home.

* * *

 

It was a toss-up as to who was the more excited of the two to give their presents. In the end, Bombur let Bilbo go first since the smaller man looked set to vibrate out of his seat on the ride home. As well as the fact that the present was hidden under a cushion on the couch and he found it when he nearly sat on it (thus disproving his theory about Bilbo being better at hiding things than he was). Still, Bombur didn’t mind going first, taking his time to unwrap the gift box and then open it.

Bilbo nearly begged Bombur to hurry up, he always hated this part. He loved giving presents and seeing how others reacted to them, but he hated waiting to see if they liked it or not. Frodo, as a child and as an adult, had the same tendency as Bilbo himself, ripping the wrapping aside and getting to the present quickly. Samwise, when he had been invited for Christmas, opened his presents in the same slow and methodical fashion that Bombur did. Bilbo knew that some of it was because they were careful by nature, but he also knew that, in their case, it came from the fact that neither had gotten many presents as children because their parents hadn’t been very well off, and thus they treasured any gifts given to them that much more.

Bombur, for his part, was speechless when he got the scrapbook out of the box. He flipped through it carefully, seeing the various stickers (It’s a Girl or It’s a Boy with appropriately colored rattles on the pages where his children were as newborns, for an example) and understanding the amount of time and effort, not to mention thought, that Bilbo had put into this. “This is…thank you, but that doesn’t seem to cover it. This is wonderful.”

“There is still space for you to add more, as time goes on,” Bilbo added, smiling as he watched Bombur stop on the last page (for now), a snapshot of their entire family, friends and Caia’s dog included, all squashed together. “I figured, the family will keep growing, might as well leave room for more memories to be added as their made.” Granted, if they kept this up, they would eventually need a new album, but they were good for at least a few years, in Bilbo’s estimation.

“I don’t know if what I have for you compares to this,” Bombur admitted. He was still reasonably proud of his gift, but after seeing this, he wasn’t sure if it would compare. “This is marvelous, Bilbo, truly. How did you do all of this?” He had to have had help, there was no other way that Bilbo would have been able to get all of those photos without him noticing. Bilbo wouldn’t have even known some of them existed if it wasn’t for talking to someone.

“Your family and friends were convinced to help me,” Bilbo admitted. “I knew I needed help, so I called out the troops. I honestly hadn’t expected the response that I got, but I am extremely grateful nonetheless.” If it hadn’t been for their help, Bilbo was sure that he wouldn’t have been able to get half of those photos, and a few he wouldn’t have known about if it wasn’t for Bofur or Bifur, or even one of the kids, pointing them out to him. “As long as you didn’t get me an album too, because I don’t think we’ll have enough room if we continue this trend.”

Bombur laughed at that, setting the scrapbook carefully back into the box and getting up to go to the kitchen, returning with his own wrapped gift. “No, I didn’t make you an album, but I hope this will be useful to you regardless.” He watched Bilbo tear off the paper to reveal the plain wooden box, Bilbo’s name written in surprisingly delicate letters on the front. Bifur certainly hadn’t lost his touch, not that Bombur was surprised. His cousin had always been good with his hands, and his skill with carving had returned faster than his words had after the accident.

“Oh, Bombur,” Bilbo murmured, opening the lid of the box to reveal an exquisitely carved chessboard and pieces. “Did you make this yourself?” He picked up one of the pieces, the ebony king piece, or what he assumed was the king given how they were sorted in the case, and laughed softly. “Is this Thorin? What is he, and why did you model the king after him?” Although, he couldn’t deny that it fit, as Thorin was one of those people who were simply born with a regal bearing. It wasn’t always something that could be learned, some had to simply be born with it or do without.

Bombur chuckled. “Thorin is the model for the king, yes, and he’s a dwarf. This,” he plucked the queen to match the king out of the box, “Was modeled after you, it’s a character in one of the kids’ books. The pawns are each modeled after someone as well, and they’re all dwarves. The castles are dragons, I’m sure you’ll recognize the elven bishops, and the knights are men on horses.”

Bilbo examined all of the pieces, marveling over the details and laughing at which pieces he had chosen to represent which of their friends. “This is marvelous, Bombur, simply marvelous. And I cannot believe that you did all of this. You told me that Bofur and Bifur had all of the carving skill in your family.” Not that it was perfect, he could spot mistakes here and there, but it was clear that Bombur had put a lot of effort into this and that mattered more than any degree of perfection could. “You shouldn’t have worried about your present not equaling mine, I rather feel that I’ve been outdone without having even put up a good effort.”

“Yours was wonderful, and Bofur and Bifur are the carvers of the family. I get by, but I wanted to do something special for you,” Bombur said simply, smiling as Bilbo replaced all of the chess pieces in their appropriate spots. He didn’t doubt that Bilbo would ensure that the same measure of care was taken regardless of how often it was used, and he couldn’t help but chuckled at that. “Later, I wouldn’t mind helping you break in your new chess set,” he continued after a moment. “But, for right now, I have a few other ideas of how we can spend our time until the kids get back tomorrow afternoon.”

Bilbo sat the box aside and raised an eyebrow, smiling. “Do you, Mr. Broadbeam? Well, I would be more than happy to hear them, or see them if you don’t mind a demonstration.”


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter. Thank you all for reading and for those of you who commented, especially LadyLaran, who commented on almost every chapter.

_Did you ever think that it would come to this?_

**Never. I didn’t think Bombur had it in him to do this.**

_I didn’t think that Bilbo was capable of it either, to be honest._

_Although maybe we should have expected it, they’ve been enamored for ages now._

**True. How’s Bilbo’s bachelor party?**

_We’re discussing books, at the moment. Bilbo and Frodo are very well read. What are you doing?_

**Bombur just got off the phone, kids called to say goodnight. He’s going to be cooking something soon.**

**Nori suggested a strip club.**

_Please tell me that someone was able to reason with him? Granted, I know how impossible it is to reason with Nori…_

**Bombur turned him down. Said he just wanted a quiet night with family and friends.**

_That sounds about right. I think they’re the only people I know who will have a nice, quiet night just like any other right before they get married._

**It’s their wedding, so if it’s what they want, it’s what they’ll get.**

_True. It’s still amazing, though. When Bilbo came in to answer Bofur’s ad, no one thought that he’d last for more than a few weeks._

**I thought he’d stay, but I didn’t think he’d get this close.**

_I didn’t really know that Bombur…I mean, I’d only ever heard him talk about his wife before, I didn’t know he was interested in men too._

**Bombur’s never been concerned with someone’s gender. Don’t know how else to explain it.**

_It’s not my business anyway. So, back on topic. Tomorrow, they’re not allowed to see each other until the wedding?_

**Yes.**

_It’s just a simple ceremony, and then we’ll be going to have a small picnic in the park, right?_

**Not so small, all our family and friends.**

_True, there’s a lot of us. Still, it’ll be nice to have everyone together for such a nice reason._

**Very. Your  brothers don’t mind you sitting with me?**

_No, they’re both learning to accept it, and Bilbo and Bombur both told them that they wouldn’t have any fighting at their ceremony._

**Good. It should be a good day for them, no bad memories.**

_Agreed. So, I’ll see you tomorrow? Nori was practically bursting at the seams at being picked as Bombur’s best man._

**I noticed. He’s preening. He was surprised when it happened, though.**

_I know, it was hilarious. I wish I had a picture of it. And Elrond’s apparently happy to be Bilbo’s best man, since he was Elrond’s best man._

**I recall. Bombur is calling, I need to go.**

_Yeah, Bilbo’s probably wondering why I’m spending so much time in the bathroom. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, love._

**I’ll talk to you tomorrow. See you at the wedding.**

_Oddest saying that I’ve heard yet. Tomorrow will be the first wedding I’ve ever gone to, actually._

_Or civil ceremony, if you want to be technical._

**Either way, they’ll be happy.**

_They will be. Goodnight, love._

**Goodnight, Ori. Try not to kill your brothers tomorrow.**

_I’ll try._

* * *

 

The ceremony was simple, just as Bilbo and Bombur wanted. Their family and friends were there, of course, and they were all dressed in fairly nice clothes, but they were all still comfortable. Even the grooms were dressed comfortably, more dressy than they would normally but not anything extravagant. The ceremony was equally simple, as neither of them wanted to make too much of a fuss over this. Neither Bombur nor Bilbo liked too much of a fuss, although they had put a lot of thought into the party that would come after (all of Bilbo’s family loved parties, apparently, although the only family members that Bilbo invited were Frodo and Samwise).

Bilbo and Bombur said their vows, exchanged their rings, and then signed the paperwork that they needed, two of their witnesses coming up to sign as well. Once the formalities were out of the way, they had posed for a family wedding photo, all of their family and friends crammed together in the small room that the ceremony had taken place in. “Another picture for the scrapbook,” Bilbo had said, smiling, and Bombur had agreed with a laugh. Then there were a few pictures of just the grooms, another item that Bilbo decided would be added to the scrapbook.

Once everyone was satisfied that they had gotten enough pictures, and Bilbo and Bombur were both still marveling over their new rings and the fact that they were now husbands, everyone piled into the cars and headed out, driving to the park where the second part of the ceremony was taking place. Bilbo and Bombur had done all of the cooking, and neither would hear any protest about that. Thranduil had been invited and had chipped in a few things for dessert regardless of Bombur and Bilbo’s protests. “Consider it part of my wedding gift if you won’t accept it any other way,” Thranduil had said, and that settled that.

“Are you enjoying our wedding?” Bilbo asked some time later. They were standing off to the side, their traditional dance already over with. They had spent some time on the make shift dance floor (really simply a flat area of the park that was empty) before deciding to have a snack and getting a drink. Then they just stood, watching their friends and family laughing and having fun, dancing or eating and drinking. Everyone who meant anything to them was there, save for two people, but Bilbo fancied that Belladonna and Alice were there with them in spirit.

“Very much,” Bombur said honestly, one arm wrapped around Bilbo’s shoulders, the smaller man leaning against him. “And it seems like everyone else is too.” He was glad for that, and that the Ri brothers seemed to have resolved their feud, at least for the moment. He was growing tired of the continual bickering, even if they had mostly resolved whatever differences of opinion that they had on the subject of Ori dating Bifur. He was glad that, regardless of whether they had truly settled their feud or had simply decided on a truce for the day, that they weren’t fighting at the wedding.

“I’ll admit, I didn’t expect this when I came in to answer that ad,” Bilbo admitted, chuckling. “I just thought that it was an odd ad, and it might be just the kind of thing that would get me out of my house and stop me from dwelling on the fact that my house seemed to be so empty.” He’d expected to find a reasonably engaging job, something that would get him out of the house and stop him from thinking for a few hours every day. He hadn’t expected Bombur, or anything that had happened, including all of the friends that he’d made.

“I didn’t expect this when you came in to answer the ad,” Bombur admitted, shaking his head with a smile. “I had Bofur promise that he’d pay to put a new ad in when no one came in to answer his. Instead, you answered it, and look where it led.” If it wouldn’t make Bofur insufferably smug, Bombur would actually thank him for that. As it was, he thought that it was best to leave well enough alone on that particular topic. “And, I’d wager that the house isn’t too quiet any longer, is it?”

Bilbo laughed, shaking his head. “No, it’s definitely not too quiet now.” Even with Amabel off at school, as she’d gotten a scholarship to a collage slightly too far away to make a daily commute reasonable, there was still Bomfris, Calix, Fergus, Caia, and Breccan. Frodo and Sam came to visit at least once or twice a week, and Amabel tried to visit on the weekends unless she was swamped with school work. The house was rarely quiet, there was always someone talking or laughing or crying or arguing. It was full of people living, and that was the one thing that he’d hoped for since his mother had passed.

“Well, in a few years, I have no doubt that our family will be getting a little bigger,” Bombur replied, smiling. Their family had already grown so much in a relatively short amount of time. Bombur had never really been lonely, not in the way Bilbo had been. He had always had plenty of friends and family around himself, but after Alice’s death he had missed having a partner to confide in, to spend time with and simply share things with. Now, with Bilbo, he had what he’d been missing.

Bilbo watched Fili and Kili dancing with Amabel and Caia, laughing and generally having fun more than actually trying to dance, although the elder three were doing their best to teach the young girl a few dance moves. Frodo and Sam were dancing, Rosie smiling from her seat off to the side, baby Elanor in her lap gnawing on a cookie. He was grateful that his nephew was happy as well, regardless of how unconventional that happiness had been. After a long talk with Bombur, Bilbo had decided to pass over ownership of the bookshop to Frodo. He had always planned to do so, of course, but he spent most of his time at the restaurant with Bombur and Frodo and Samwise had been running the bookshop since Belladonna’s passing. It was only right that Frodo, Sam, and Rosie knew that they had a secure income.

“I don’t want to know what the kids did to the car,” Bombur murmured, startling another laugh out of Bilbo. He had seen Fili and Kili talking to Calix and Fergus, as well as Frodo’s cousins Merry and Pippin, and he didn’t think that anything good would come from the six of them teaming up and heading for the parking lot. “Although I have no doubt that it will be covered in enough condoms to last us for a lifetime.” Bofur had done something of the sort when he’d married Alice, and he recalled blushing several shades of red. At least he could hope that he’d be more composed now.

“Or at least through the honeymoon,” Bilbo teased, laughing with Bombur before tugging his husband back out to the dance floor. The night wouldn’t last forever, and he wanted to enjoy it while he could. Still, it wasn’t the end, it was just another new beginning.

And to think, it had all gotten started by a simple help wanted ad.


End file.
